


Death Of All The Bachelors

by Merkey666



Series: High School Au [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Drag, Drama, M/M, Mild Smut, Pranks, Prom, Skype, a mess, sO MUCH DRAG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 75,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkey666/pseuds/Merkey666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>breadman gets fuckin DUMPED REKT BOI nd ryan is gay n salty(tm) then gerhard is a fucking drama queen and thers a Big Fight with him and frank and then ryan is gay n salty still. gethard wears drag to piss off frank.</p><p>(the editor wanted to mention he was nutting a little bit about gerard in drag but i wouldn't let him)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my first fic ever (even tho it sucks big time oops), but it is the first one I'm posting. A big thank you to my dearest friend who helped my perfect this horrible word splurge monster of mine. (Thank you so much) Anyway, if you read this, thanks, if not, it's whatever. Good luck tbh
> 
> Update:  
> Okay and this is who is who on Skype-
> 
> Brendon: Pricky  
> Ryan: Stoner McBoner  
> Spencer: Spenis  
> Dallon: The Purest Word Of God  
> Jon: Old man Jonnie  
> Patrick: The Star  
> Pete: Memelord1.0  
> Gerard: Get hard  
> Mikey: Candyman  
> Frank: Fronk  
> Ray: Sunshine  
> Josh: pink haired spook  
> Hayley: Hayl Satan  
> Lynn-z: the b00b  
> Meagan: eggan  
> Tyler: burgerface
> 
> Sorry for the confusion!

No one can tell the future. In fact, no one can even feel when the wind changes or when someone is watching them, despite the common superstitions. None of that is possible to a human, not even the world’s most renowned minds. And if any group of people is unobservant, it’s high schoolers. Especially these particular high schoolers. But somehow, on Monday morning, when each of their alarms went off, they all knew that this week in particular would be stunningly awful. Maybe it was the arguments there had been rumors of, or maybe it was the changing of the weather. No matter what they explained their reason to be, they were all completely damn right. 

~

Brendon Boyd Urie has never, ever been desperate. And yet, here he was, a desperate man. Of course, he would never admit it. Prom was coming up and that stupid sticky thought had been stuck in his mind like gum on the bottom of a shoe. As of two days ago, he had a girlfriend.

But apparently, according to her, he didn’t anymore. Brendon glared at his phone where he read the stupid text over and over again, eyes tracing each individual letter, hoping there was some secret code he wasn’t getting. When finally he decided he was either too stupid to figure it out or she had been too stupid not to send one, he gave up. He groaned and threw his cursed phone across the room as his alarm beeped. 7:00. Time to wake up. Not that he ever went to sleep that night. He shot up, suddenly energized from the first dumping he’d ever received, and bolted out his door and down the hallway. He pushed past his mom, who nearly dropped her laundry thanks to him.

“What’s got you up so early? You never get up this early. Especially on Monday mornings,” she said, picking up some fallen shirts. Brendon shrugged and yawned. Sleep was never an issue. Not when there were perfectly good desks waiting at school. His mother rolled her eyes.

“Tell me you actually slept last night.” She darkened, a scowl on her usually bright face. 

“Sorry mom!” Brendon shouted, slipping into the bathroom and locking the door with a shit eating grin on his face. 

After a long shower Brendon was not used to having the luxury of taking, he slid down the banister in a bathrobe he found in the bowels of his room. He sauntered into the kitchen, feeling abnormally good, especially for after a breakup. Especially since prom was right around the corner. He busied himself with not thinking about that. His mom plopped down at the dining room table and poured a glass of orange juice for herself.

“So what kind of corsage are you getting Sarah for prom night?” she asked, not thinking twice on the question. Brendon cleared his throat nervously. He had clearly forgotten to tell her last night when he got the text. The one he was was so used to sending, as opposed to receiving. But then again, Brendon knew loads about receiving. 

“Oh um… yeah, we actually broke up,” he replied, trying to stay completely nonchalant. Staying calm was the key, according to Brendon, who knew just about everything about nothing, and nothing about everything.

“What?” his mother shouted. Brendon was far enough away to avoid the rather large spew of orange juice that erupted from his mother’s nose.

“Yup,” Brendon added, popping the p at the end. His mom rolled her eyes and went back to her paper, ignoring her brat of a son. She didn’t know how he did it, but she was sure glad he did. Her life wouldn’t be half as interesting without him.

It didn’t register with Brendon how big of a deal this was until he got back up to his room to get dressed. And then, he panicked. “What the fuck am I going to do? I have a suit, I have a fucking car, but I don’t have a date. I can’t go without a date!” he shrieked to himself, locked in his room, 15 minutes before school started. His phone went off. He picked it up with no mercy is his body, answered, and screamed, 

“What the actual fuck do you want Dallon, I swear to god I will actually murder you.” Stunned silence and Brendon’s heavy breathing filled the line. 

“Sarah dumped you, didn't she?” Dallon asked, sounding extra cocky over the phone. 

“Yes. Wait- how did you know?” Brendon asked, an uncomfortable realization dawning on him that Dallon might know more in this situation than he did. And that was never okay with Brendon.

“I’ll explain when you come pick me the fuck up and take me to school like you do every other day of the week, Brendon. I’m not gonna be late on prom week.” Dallon hissed at him. Brendon was rather taken aback by this and simply hung up. He had forgotten how important prom week was at his school. Unlike any other school he’d heard of, at his school the teachers could suspend you on the Friday of prom, which included prom itself. Meaning, if he was so much as late for class, he might not be going at all. He plopped down on his bed, and pouted. He pouted for about five minutes before realizing Dallon was right and school started in about ten minutes. Brendon rushed through getting dressed, but took his time doing his hair and such. He needed to look good today in order to get a date for prom, he convinced himself. That was his only chance.

He was at Dallon’s in five minutes flat, and Dallon was in the car in another two. 

“Morning sunshine.” Dallon laughed, poking him in the face. Brendon swatted him away, driving at his usual fifty miles per hour pace.

“About the Sarah thing-“

“You’d better explain that.” Brendon cut in. Dallon cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“All the girls have been planning it for a while. You did some nasty things to them and this is their payback. Sorry, Brendon.” Dallon replied simply, as he patted Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon, once again, swatted his hand away. Brendon grumbled angrily to himself as he pulled into the school’s shitty parking lot. He should have known.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with. There’s gotta be- oh my gosh.” Dallon stopped. In the center of the parking lot, were two of their fellow classmates. Arguing. Brendon loved drama and was also pretty sure Dallon secretly loved it too. Brendon pulled the car to a stop and ran over to the mess, leaving Dallon and the car in the middle of the parking lot. Dallon, being the secret drama queen he was, quickly followed in suit. 

A small crowd of most of their friend group had gathered around the arguing pair at that point. Brendon pushed his way to the front, as usual. He was the King of drama, therefore he always got the front lines. Dallon, being Brendon’s self-proclaimed Queen of Drama, and the tall glass of water he is, also usually got a front row seat, but that was usually because of his height.

“Gerard, I swear I didn’t! Why the fuck would I do that the week before prom?” Frank shouted. Frank was the kind of kid who grew up in a perfectly fine neighborhood, but you wouldn’t know it from the way he acted and dressed. He somehow, at age seventeen, had gotten himself a scorpion tattoo on his neck, and wore black earrings and nail polish everyday. 

“Is that all I’m here for, Frank? A date to prom? Are you fucking kidding me?” Gerard shrieked back. Frank rolled his eyes, as did half the crowd. Brendon could already feel the debacle coming along.

“You know what I meant!”

“If I’m just here for prom then there’s no reason you couldn’t have slept with her!” Gerard fired back. Brendon was now seriously holding back the urge to scream ‘fight’. He knew the only people they’d fight were him. Dallon noticed another student who had his phone out and was recording the situation. Dallon had seen him when he ran over, which meant that this kid had seen more of the fight.

“I’m gay! Why the fuck would I sleep with her?” Frank shouted. Gerard seemed to be at a momentary loss for words. He bit his lip anxiously, as if he was considering his options here. The crowd seemed to be hold its breath, or at least Brendon was.

“You slept with Jamia.” Gerard whispered. Frank looked completely shocked.

“What?! How did you…?”

“How did I know? Did you really think Mikey would keep a secret from me? How dumb are you?” Gerard yelled.

“At least I could trust her to keep her damn mouth shut! Unlike you, clearly!” Frank retaliated. Gerard stood there for a moment. The parking lot was dead silent. 

“Okay. Fine. You know what, Frank Iero? I am done. Done!” Gerard shouted, turning and storming away. The crowd parted for him, as he stormed across the grey lot and into the building. Frank stood there like he’d been told he was pregnant. He didn’t move. He didn’t cry. He didn’t even blink. Brendon couldn’t believe his fucking ears. Gerard and Frank? Done? This was gonna raise hell. He turned to Dallon, who looked equally shocked. There was nothing they could do about it now. 

****

No one could tell by looking at the surface, but underneath it was a shit-storm daily, and this was just two millimeters away from becoming the ninth level of hell. Frank and Gerard were the best friends who were inseparable and would probably kill for each other, only Frank and Gerard weren’t best friends, they were dating. The real best friends were Frank and Mikey, Gerard’s little brother. It was stupid, really, how it all began, but that was buried under so many layers of scrap paper and eraser shavings that it was almost completely forgotten. All that was known about the boys now was that they had always been ‘the boys’. It was always Frank and Gerard this, or Gerard and Frank that. Not everyone at East High had quite the same brush with romance as they did, so instead everyone chose to live vicariously through the two. To put it mildly, everyone felt at least half of their soul had been lit on fire and crushed by the flaming wrath of death itself.

Brendon walked to class alone, as Dallon’s first class was the opposite direction from his. He made a beeline towards his locker, only to find the other Way waiting for him.

“Mikey. What a surprise! What do you want?” Brendon asked, grumpily.

“Have you seen Gerard? I couldn’t find him this morning. He went to bed in a funk last night and he was gone when I woke up.” Mikey asked, scratching his head. Brendon dropped his books and stared at Mikey.

“Oh boy, have I ever.” Brendon laughed, picking up his books from the sticky hallway floor. Mikey raised his eyebrows in his suspicious way. “Good luck Mikey. You’ll need it.” Brendon noted, patting Mikey on the shoulder with one hand, as he walked backwards down the hallway to class. 

Brendon entered his class a casual four minutes late, as usual. His teacher, Ms. Benoit, gave him an annoyed but proud smile as he walked in.

“Now let’s all give Brendon a round of applause for being only four minutes late today!” she exclaimed sarcastically. But, of course, you can’t really be sarcastic with high schoolers, and so the entire class burst into applause for Brendon. He gave a short curtsy and walked over to his seat. Sarcasm doesn’t even work for the drama class (which wasn’t exactly what class this was, but it was nearly there with both Brendon and Pete.) 

“The substitute on Friday gave you homework for the weekend, but since it was a substitute, I assume none of you did it. So, get to work before the principal makes his morning rounds.” Ms. Benoit instructed. Everyone liked Ms. Benoit, no matter what time of day, and having that skill was very important. And if you were lucky enough to have her first, you were the kings and queens of the school, which did loads for Brendon’s already inflated self esteem. He was pulled out of his egotistical daydream by a loud screeching. Chairs sailed overhead, like little flags as people moved to their preferred spots. No one even had to ask to move seats, everyone just did it. Ms. Benoit had found out pretty quick into her teaching career it was easier just to let them sit with their friends. It was one of her many famous beloved teaching practices. Brendon popped up, picked his chair up and lifted it up over his head, and carried it and his backpack over to the back corner of the room, window side. The best part of the room undoubtably, and it was just for him and his friends. He dropped his chair to the floor, making the regular annoying clanking sound. He moved so sit in it, but didn’t get to as Pete suddenly appeared out of seemingly nowhere, hip checked him, and stole his seat. Brendon, now on the floor, grabbed the legs of his chair, and tipped Pete onto the floor. Pete crashed to the floor, and gave Brendon the opportunity to take back his rightful throne. 

“C’mon Wentz, you’ve got to try harder than that.” Brendon teased. 

He scoped the table to see just who and who wasn’t there that day. So far there was Pete, Lindsey, Josh, Ray, and Meagan, Pete’s girlfriend, who was ridiculously tall for her age. Using her height as an advantage, she scooped Pete up from the floor and dropped him on the table.

“Geez, what have you been eating, Pete?” she joked, kissing him on the cheek. 

“Ass,” Bob interjected as he walked over casually. Pete threw a wadded up piece of paper at him, which of course missed by two miles. Bob just laughed. The rest of his friend group in this class slowly wandered over to the clusters of desks in the back corner, window side.

“Did you guys see what Patrick posted this morning?” Lindsey asked, pulling out her phone and her homework. Another of Ms. Benoit’s rules: If you’re not going to do work, just pretend you are and she’ll pretend not to notice. You can always do the work at three am. That one had a pretty good effect on the general mood of the class. The rest of the group followed in suit, pulling out their phones and checking their Instagrams. A hush fell over the group in the back corner, window side, as they all watched and re-watched that morning’s fight between East High School’s very own Gerard and Frank. Pete was the first to react. He yelped and fell off the table, dropping his phone on the floor in the process. Brendon watched him lay there, and pick up his broken case. 

“This is gonna cause a fucking war.” Josh hissed under his breath. Everyone nodded in agreement. Brendon took a long sigh and sat back in his chair.

“I’m not getting involved,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes. 

“Yes you are, you fucking liar,” Pete laughed. 

“Nope. I’m not. I need to focus on getting a date, which won’t be hard, and then I can stick my face up my own ass and return to my kingly throne,” Brendon confirmed. The other members of the table sat and stared in horror, and amused silence. It slowly dawned on them that Brendon was not kidding. Brendon wasn’t getting involved? Something was terribly wrong. 

“Did Sarah dump you?” Meagan asked, picking at her nail. Brendon grunted in return. He didn’t bother to open his eyes to see his friend’s reactions. He simply didn’t care. 

“Are you telling me Sarah dumped the one and only Brendon fucking Urie?” Ray asked, slamming his fists on the table.

“Yup,” Lindsey butted in, chewing loudly on her bubblegum. Everyone else sat back in their chairs, a look on each of their faces saying that the world was ending. Because, for the students of East High, it was.

Brendon had a streak of dumping that was a little bit scary. At first it had been funny.  
People had made bets on who would dump Brendon before he could dump her, but that stopped being funny after a month or two. Now, years later, it was earth shattering. People had given up on him. Occasionally he’d get the casual “slut” or “whore” or even “womanizer.” But Brendon was not cruel. He always had his reasons for dumping a person. He wasn’t rude or doing it for the laughs, he was just picky. But now, the week of prom, he got dumped. 

This was catastrophic to every single student, except one Ryan Ross in Chemistry class, three doors and two floors away. Ryan, who was just hearing of this news, was elated. He had put good money (or, good money for a high schooler) on the fact that Sarah would be the one to break the streak for years. No one believed him, because the two just had no interest in one another. Up until two weeks ago, apparently. Whether it had all been just a setup, or if there were feelings involved, Ryan didn’t know or care. All he knew, is that many people owed him money, and his crush was in desperate need of a prom date. And he honestly couldn’t ask for anymore than that.

Brendon resumed the class as if it was a regular day for a regular person. Brendon usually did not consider himself a regular person, being that he was so invested in drama and such. But that day he acted normal, or at least he pretended to. Deep in the back of his mind, he was still being plagued by his prom dilemma, which everyone now knew about. And Brendon knew that was going to suck. At least, he figured, if he was going to be put through his own specific and unique version of hell, he would get some sleep out of it. Brendon put his head down. 

“Brendon. Earth to Breadbin!” Meagan snapped her fingers in front of his face. Brendon looked up at her curiously and completely uninterested all at once.

“Whose side are you on? Frank of Gerard?” She asked again, because Brendon had clearly not heard it the first three times. 

“I told you. I’m not getting involved. I’m not picking a damn side.” Brendon grumbled, and wondered why people just couldn’t leave him alone. 

As it turned out, Brendon was coping just fine during his solitude. Each class felt the same as the next: boring as always. He might’ve actually given half a damn about the lesson if he wasn’t so busy sleeping. Luckily, the bell woke him up for the next class, which he silently prayed for. He walked from one class to the next, completely alone. Not even Ryan walked over to him. He wasn’t really surprised that Ryan kept his distance, he was just a little hurt that his friend didn’t seem to care about him all that much. Brendon couldn’t figure out Ryan. He could understand everyone else, but not Ryan. Everyone else’s motives were easy to copy and memorize. If someone insulted Frank, he would go on the defensive and Gerard, depending whether he was around or not, would yank him back, just out of habit. It was stuff like that that Brendon could understand. Rituals and repeated actions. But not once in his entire life could he predict Ryan’s next move. It was always exactly what he wasn’t expecting him to do, or what he expected himself to do. The boys were so similar that they acted like brothers. Up until the confession, which left Brendon the most blindsided of all. But that didn’t even occur to Brendon that day. 

Brendon figured he had until about lunch until all the drama had finished spreading. Both parties of drama. Either way, he didn’t want a spotlight. For the first time in the history of his life, Brendon did not want to be the center of attention. Not the complete center of attention. Lunch rolled around, much to his dismay. He slumped over to his table as he prepared himself to get laughed at. He plopped down at the head of the table, a murderous look on his tired features. Everyone shared knowing looks but said nothing, which pissed Brendon off to no end. Brendon would take being talked about for a bad thing over not being talked about at all any day. Even today, when he didn’t want to be the complete center of attention. He couldn’t ignore it, not matter how much he wanted to. That’s just the kind of person he was.

“Alright, just say it.” He grumbled. He took an angry bite of badly heated leftovers. They always made him feel gross on the inside. Today, that wasn’t the only reason. 

“So who are you taking to prom then?” Ryan asked, an evil smile on his lips. Brendon scowled at him.

“I don’t know yet,” He growled at Ryan, eyes narrowed at his friend. Ryan scoffed into his salad. 

“Yeah, well who are you taking, Ryan?” Brendon asked in return. Ryan glanced up at him angrily.

“I don’t know yet.” He mocked Brendon’s voice. Both Brendon and Ryan waited for people to laugh, as people always did, even at their stupid banter. But no one laughed. No one spoke. No one even breathed. And that was because Frank plopped down in the seat he claimed as his the first day of high school, which was right across from the one Gerard claimed as his own. They sat down heatedly, perfectly in sync as they were everyday. The awkwardness of situation bore down on everyone uncomfortably. 

“You can fucking talk, ya know.” Frank snapped, ripping open his yogurt. The group exploded into nervous conversation. Nervous, but very loud. 

“So Brendon- If you could take anyone here to prom, who would it be?” Lindsey shouted, a feeble attempt to make some decent conversation. Most everyone fell silent. Brendon however, was absolutely horrified by this question. He knew who would be the best person to take but that rejection, the only rejection, came and went many years ago. Brendon didn’t even know what he felt anymore, if anything at all. Brendon couldn’t just drag him back into this.

“Um… I don’t know.” Brendon grumbled, stabbing his fork into his leftovers from many nights ago. Everyone at his table groaned, further pissing him off. He rolled his eyes and pushed his back against the cool plastic of his chair to refrain from stabbing someone.

“C’mon. Just one of us- Who would it be?” Frank insisted, poking his forking in Brendon’s direction. He glared at Frank and took in his fake smile. Brendon could tell he was smiling for the sole purpose of pissing Gerard off. It was that kind of smirk. Frank wiggled his eyebrows at him. Brendon gave one last defeated look around the group.

“Guys, I don’t know. How do you expect me to chose? All of you guys are good meat specimens,” Brendon replied, trying to keep his cool. Brendon knew the longer he stayed calm and collected, the angrier Ryan got. And having that kind of power of Ryan fueled Brendon immensely. Brendon and Ryan weren’t enemies. They were friends, in fact. After the confession things got rocky and tough for the two. Then Dallon happened, and the two resorted to being brats to each other in public and how they used to be in private. Which they didn’t do a whole lot anymore. So, Brendon and Ryan had cooled it for a while until Sarah happened. Then they both lost their shit, according to Pete, and no one could really figure out why. Brendon tried to be nice, he really did. But Brendon had better tricks up his sleeves. Brendon clicked his tongue and smiled that famous shit eating grin of his, that he always sported right after and occasionally before saying or doing something nasty.

“Ya know? I’d probably actually take Dallon. I mean… he’s one of my oldest friends,” Brendon answered casually. Ryan and Spencer choked on their food. 

One of his oldest friends? That fucker, Ryan thought, and nonchalantly threw a carrot at him. Brendon batted it away. They made swift eye contact for a split second, which was all they needed. It was Spencer who, once again, brought them down from their high.

Spencer coughed loudly, emphasizing his discomfort with the situation. All heads turned his direction. A blush steadily rose in Dallon’s cheeks despite his confused expression.

“No, actually, um…” Spencer started nervously, as he yanked his eyes away from Dallon and over to Brendon. He took a breath.

“Actually, I’m taking Dallon,” Spencer said, matter-of-factly. Shock settled at the table. Dallon sent Spencer a look. 

“You are?” Brendon asked, taking a bite of his mushy lunch. No one knew it, but Spencer had been planning on asking Dallon to prom, but hadn’t worked up the nerve for it yet. He knew Dallon would say yes, as they were practically dating, but still Spencer couldn’t bring himself to say a word. And now he’d done it. In the worst way possible, he thought. Dallon couldn’t believe his ears. 

“Y-Yeah he is,” Dallon replied, sending Spencer his best ‘what the fuck’ face. He’d only used it once before when Brendon face-timed him at three am because he was freaking out over whether kissing his fish was considered beastiality. The two had ruled it was not.

“Are you two… a couple now or something?” Lindsey piped up from the other end of the table.

 

“Yes.”

 

“No.” 

 

Dallon and Spencer stared at each other. More like glared, if you asked Brendon. 

“Wow, it’s like this morning all over again!” Pete laughed. Frank, Gerard, Brendon, Dallon, and Spencer all gave Pete their best death glares. Meagan grabbed Pete by the arm and dragged him away. Mikey snorted. Everyone agreed that was enough of that. No one missed the accidental eye contact Gerard and Frank momentarily made once Pete was out of sight. 

“Well now.” Lindsey clapped her hands together. “Now we have one sort of ex couple, one new couple, Brendon’s been dumped for the first time since fifth grade-“

“Fourth.” 

“Okay, fourth grade, the school is split down the middle the week of prom, and Ryan and Brendon have still not fucked to get their angst out. Good luck this afternoon, guys!” Lindsey cheered as she scooped up her bag of popcorn and skipped away. The rest of the table was left in shock. Ryan and Brendon were flushed with embarrassment, Frank and Gerard were scowling at her, and Dallon and Spencer had disappeared. The bell rang and everyone let out a long sigh of relief. That was one lunch period they thought would never end.

Brendon, now realizing his only legitimate option for prom was gone, sulked all the way through the rest of his classes, most of which he slept through. His lack of sleep was kicking in, and his desk felt smoother than usual. P.E. was the only redeeming class of the day, as he found out the dodgeball tournament was coming up. It was the perfect outlet for angst, and boy, did that school sure have some. Brendon spent the rest of the day sulking and trying to work out whether God hated him or whether that was a paradox or not. He sulked all the way to his locker and all the way past the drama he was supposedly not getting involved in. The rest of his friends had decided that even though Brendon, the King of drama, wasn’t getting ‘involved’, didn’t mean that they shouldn’t. It was quite the opposite, actually. 

****

Gerard walked down the hallways of his school uncomfortably. He wasn’t usually uncomfortable in his school, but today was different. It had been different since he went to bed last night. He had found out that Frank had supposedly slept with some girl at school whose name he didn’t even know. The rumor was shady to begin with, and Gerard currently had no idea why he made such a fuss about it. Mikey told him a while back that Meagan had told Pete that Frank slept with Jamia, which Gerard, by no means, took to be true. He kept that to himself because he couldn’t bear to lose Frank. But with the surfacing of the new rumor, Gerard lost it. 

Now, thanks to his big ruckus, he was uncomfortable in his own hallway, which was because everyone was staring at him. They were all used to him and Frank being glued at the hip. But today it was just Gerard walking to physics. Half of the students glared at Gerard, while the other looked sympathetic or even pitiful. Mikey caught up with Gerard.

“Hey! I heard about what happened! I’m so sorry, Gee! Oh god, I’m so sorry. I would’ve said something at lunch but it was too awkward and I’m so sorry,” Mikey apologized. Gerard shrugged him off, not saying a word. Mikey locked arms with Gerard supportively. Mikey didn’t care what people thought. He didn’t care what the teachers thought. Hell, he didn’t even care what Pete thought. And he always cared what Pete thought. His brother didn’t do anything wrong. 

Like a good boyfriend, Gerard had memorized Frank’s schedule. Every route he took, every stop he made, every person he was likely to talk to. He had never told this to Frank because, well, it was a bit creepy. Gerard couldn’t help the fact that he was obsessed with Frank, for some reason. Gerard had always used this little insight to surprise Frank in nice little ways that made both of their faces light up and smile. But now Gerard had other ideas. He knew the breakup was his fault, and he wouldn’t dare say he regretted it, but he did. Mikey was talking to him, but Gerard wasn’t listening. He looked to the clock. 

“Mikey, hold on just one second. I need to go make a mistake. When I nod, stick your leg out,” he muttered dismissively. Gerard trotted over to Patrick who was by his locker. 

“Hey Patrick!” Gerard beamed. Patrick looked up and smiled back.

“Hey Gerard. You’re looking pretty smiley… for someone who just broke up with his boyfriend,” Patrick replied. Gerard’s smile faltered for a second. 

“Well, it was time. I’ve had my eyes set higher for a while, and this was just the exit I needed, y’know?” Gerard said. It was a total fucking lie and they both knew it. Patrick nodded unsurely. 

“What is it you wanted?” Patrick asked, a little defensive. He crossed his arms and shut his locker. Gerard watched Frank round the corner, only a couple feet away. 

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to say hi. I need more people in my life,” he sighed. Gerard did not want more people in his life. He wanted Frank. Mikey sent Gerard a warning look. Gerard nodded at him. Mikey couldn’t believe his brother. Mikey rolled his eyes and nonchalantly stuck his leg out. A boy Mikey didn’t know was the unlucky target. He was a couple feet in front of Frank, who almost tripped also. Gerard leaned in and kissed Patrick on the cheek. Frank turned at just the wrong moment. Or the right, according to Gerard. Frank thought he got shot from how badly that hurt. Just like that, Gerard was over him, he thought. 

Gerard waved at Patrick and skipped back over to Mikey, who looked ready to kill. He roughly looped arms with Gerard and tugged him around the corner. Mikey shot only one look over his shoulder before pulling Gerard into the bathroom.

“What the hell was that? Are you trying to ruin both of our lives?” Mikey shouted in disbelief. This was the lowest of the low. Gerard tried to shrug it off again, but that never got past Mikey. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, glaring deep into each other’s very hearts. Gerard was the first to break. He sighed.

“Okay fine! I get it! What I did was low, okay, I get it. But the faster I get over him, the better, right?” Gerard wailed. He expected some retaliating from Mikey, but he just leaned back against the wall and burst out laughing.

“Gerard? Are you kidding? You’re not getting over Frank any time soon! He’s my best friend, so I know how well you two got along. You’re just digging yourself into a deeper hole, Gee.” Mikey replied. Gerard nodded and pinched his brow. He knew Mikey was right. Mikey sighed, a pitying smile still on his face. He grabbed the door handle and yanked. 

“Wait!” Gerard yelped. Mikey turned back around.

“Promise that you’ll still be on my side? If you have to pick a side?” Gerard asked worriedly. 

“No matter how much of an idiot you are, I’ll always be on your side,” Mikey responded and left the bathroom. Gerard stood there, thinking for a moment. He suddenly jumped and ran after Mikey. He couldn’t walk to class alone after that. He wouldn’t survive.

The pair scuffled into Ms. Shepard’s room and took their usual seats, one behind the other. Frank usually sat on Gerard’s left, but today he opted for a seat in the far corner. Gerard knew that was meant to sting and he couldn’t let it. But damn, he thought, that stings. Ms. Shepard, with her short orange hair, bounced into the room. 

“I’ve been informed there is some… seriously damaging drama going around for you guys. I’m sorry to hear that. I want you all to know that I fully support all of you. If anyone needs a break to go talk to a counselor, let me know. I don’t condone starting drama in the first place, because I don’t enjoy dealing with it. Date who you like, don’t break hearts, and stick to your own business. It’s not that hard, kids,” she explained. Frank felt a jab in his side. He realized then that he might not survive this week alone. The moment Ms. Shepard turned around, he pulled out his phone and clicked on Skype. He turned off his ringer. This was going to get messy.

Fronk: the teachers are taking sides now. this means war.

Memelord1.0: #Prepared to die 

Brendon was blissfully unaware of all that had happened during the last class of the day. He assured himself he simply did not need that sort of stress in his life right now. He knew it was a lie, but he went along anyway. He sulked on his way out of the school from lack of drama that he knew was just a passcode and an app away. He sulked through the front door and through the kitchen, where he dropped his bag angrily.  
“Still no date, huh?” his mother asked lazily as she kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. Brendon growled uncomprehendingly and stomped up the stairs and all the way into his bedroom. He picked up his guitar and fiddled with the strap for a few moments. He looked over the suns embroidered on the leather. Ryan had given him that strap as a birthday gift a couple years back. 

Ryan, Brendon thought. I need Ryan. 

He picked up his phone and dialed Ryan’s number, which he kept on speed dial for three AM ‘I just had a miraculous discovery’ calls that he both received and returned. More often than not, he returned.

“Hey,” Ryan spoke up softly from the other side of the line. Brendon immediately perked up. 

“Hey. Wanna come over? I need to think out loud for a while,” Brendon replied, as he worked the guitar strap in between his fingers.

“Sure. Be there in a few. I have homework so I can’t stay over tonight.” Ryan sighed. 

“Good, cause I didn’t invite you to stay the night.” Brendon growled playfully, and hung up the phone. Ryan rolled his eyes and dropped his phone on his bed. Brendon asked so much of him and he always complied. And that was tough for Ryan. But being in love with your best friend is tough, especially when it’s one sided.

Brendon was a major asshole, Ryan knew it, and Brendon knew Ryan knew and he did nothing about it. Brendon liked his rep. The two were lucky enough to have houses back to back, as cliche as it was. Ryan hopped out of his window, despite the way his mother scolded him for doing so, and walked the railing over to Brendon’s side. There was once a time when the two would sit together on the fence and eat ice cream for hours, suffering together from their ice cream headaches. But not anymore. Ryan climbed through Brendon’s window, tripped over his desk, and face planted. 

“When the fuck did you move your desk?” Ryan moaned from the floor. Brendon shrugged his question off like it meant nothing. He had bigger worries prancing around his psyche. 

“Oh… You’re still pissed over Sarah dumping you. That’s why I’m here. You don’t actually want my company, just someone to vent to who won’t spill all your secrets. Right,” Ryan accused, picking himself off the floor.

“You should take what you can get from me, Ross. And don’t you go threatening to spill all my secrets, because boy oh boy do I have some shit on you,” Brendon whistled. Ryan dragged his feet as far away from Brendon as possible and collapsed in his desk chair. 

“Ya know, I’m kinda fucking sick of you issuing empty threats at me,” Ryan huffed. 

Brendon burst out laughing and sunk back onto his bed, slapping his knee for good measure. Ryan rolled his eyes so hard he almost saw God. 

“You’re one to talk. You’re the one who-“

“Alright!” Ryan shouted. Ryan had only been there for a little under five minutes, and was already dying to leave. Which was ironic, considering only ten minutes ago he would’ve given anything to have a reason to go see Brendon. 

“Sorry,” Brendon mumbled. He knew he had crossed a line, and he also knew Ryan would love to see him suffer for it. No matter how much dirt Brendon had on Ryan, Ryan had more on him. And they both knew Pete fucking Wentz would give his dick to hear some of it. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Brendon suggested. 

“I’ve seen all of your movies, and they’re all dumb anyway. Why can’t we go see a movie at the theater?” Ryan whined. Brendon sighed, like it was so painfully obvious why not.

“Because if we go out people will talk, and by people I mean Pete,” Brendon replied matter-of-factly. Ryan dropped his backpack on the floor and slid off the chair. He crawled over to Brendon’s video game selection and poked around. 

“No one will talk. Stop being such a drama queen.” Ryan stabbed at a game.

“I’m not a drama queen. I’m _the_ drama queen.” Brendon sounded insulted. 

“If you keep saying dumb shit like that I’m going to reach a whole new plane of existence from rolling my eyes, and then you’ll have no one to vent to, so can it,” Ryan hissed. Brendon felt rather taken aback. Instantly going on the defensive, Brendon pulled out his phone and opened Skype to an already buzzing group chat. 

Pricky: There is so much salt in the air I can feel it in my mouth

Memelord1.0: is that from all the dick you’re sucking in order to get a prom date

Pricky: says u who’s probably so far up Mikey’s ass rn you’ve hit his Anthrax shrine

Fronk: woO O O A h H getting spicy in here 

Candyman: scuse 

Brendon smiled down at his phone proudly, despite the fact he could practically feel Ryan’s glare from across his room. Ryan felt his pocket buzz, and tore his eyes away from Brendon only to see the horrific mess of a chat he was, for some godforsaken reason, forced to be a part of. 

Get hard: wWWAIT BREATH MINT DOES THIS ME A N THAT RYA N IS WITH 

Get hard: if you’re sucking dick and all

Stoner McBoner: not like you’d know much about sucking dick 

Get hard: what do you mean by that? 

Memelord1.0: WAIT YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOIN THE BIBLE JAM WITH RYAN R O, SS RIGH TT NOWW

Pricky: chill the fuck out guys no he’s at his house

Fronk: killing the energy, killing the mood, killing the vibes…

Ryan looked up from his phone to glare at Brendon. 

“I panicked, okay?” He explained. Ryan, for the third time, rolled his eyes. At least he thought it was the third time. He’d lost count. 

“But see, Ry? I told you people would talk,” Brendon concluded scientifically. “It’s just the facts.” Ryan gave up on his phone and Brendon’s shitty supply of video games and turned to him. 

“Is this why you wanted me over here? To explain that we can’t hang out together and to ignore me? If so, I’m going home.” Ryan sighed. 

“No! Please don’t. I need someone to vent to.” Ryan smiled inwardly. He secretly, and not so secretly, loved it when Brendon admitted he needed him. Even if it was for shitty stuff like venting. 

Brendon spent the next hour explaining to Ryan how terrible Sarah was, and how she wasn’t even that good of a lay (Ryan cringed at that part. So did Brendon), and how he would never find a date and his whole life would be ruined.

“Brendon, your whole life will not collapse if you don’t have a prom date. Calm down,” Ryan sighed. Even his Skype would be better than this.

“Ryan, you make everything seem so easy. And gay.” Brendon moped. Ryan didn’t even take offense to that. At this point, it was spot on. 

“Brendon you could literally ask the entire group chat if anyone would go with you, and I can assure you that, at the bare minimum, both Frank and Gee will say yes.” That sparked a question in Ryan.

“Who’s team are you on, by the way?”

“Valor.” 

“Oh my god, you fucking idiot. I meant Frank or Gerard? Our high school is being turned upside down by it,” Ryan implored. Brendon scoffed and rolled over onto his face on the bed. 

“I’m not getting involved. I told everyone that already.” 

Ryan only half heard that, as he was too busy staring at Brendon’s ass. 

“The school is going nuts and you’re too busy trying to get a date so you can bust a nut that you don’t care? What’s gotten into you? Actually, don’t answer that,” Ryan heaved melodramatically. 

“Stop being so gay, Ross.” Brendon whined. “And stop staring at my ass.” Ryan whipped his eyes away from Brendon, who was, of course, beaming over having someone to make him feel pretty. Even if it was Ryan. Especially if it was Ryan. Brendon missed him, but wouldn’t say it even if he got offered a trillion dollars. He felt his phone buzz. 

Stoner McBoner: Bread knob just told me to stop being gay. Does he not know who I am or??

Memelord1.0: SO YOU TWO ARE TOGETHER HUH

The star: Pete chill the fuck

Eggan: pete. my boy. pal. buddy. homeslice. bread slice. chum. mate. calm yo dick.

Memelord1.0: chill the fuck

Memelord1.0: the fuck is going straight into the freezer to chill, don't worry Patty.

Get hard: i side with lil peezy here. bATHROOM WHERE U AT

Memelord1.0: um no i did not order a large liar burger with a side of po-traitor fires and a milk fake

Spenis: oh fuck not this again

Pricky: wHERE DID OU EVEN COME FROM

Stoner McBoner: mY GUESS IS HE JUST GOT BACK FROM BUSTIN A FINE NUT ALL UP IN DAD

Pricky: ew that’s gay

Stoner McBoner: On 4/22/16, at 5:27 PM, Stoner McBoner wrote:  
> Bread knob just told me to stop being gay. Does he not know who I am or??

The star: i am physically not Ready for this fite to happen Wake Me Up When Its All Over

Get Hard: at least i’m not a lying son of a Fuck, sweaty 

The star: When I’m Wiser And I’m Older

Hayl Satan: honestly i just came here to have a good time and honestly I'm feeling so attacked rn

Memelord1.0: YO @ FRONK WYD

Fronk: Me? Not much. Just gonna go have an orgy with six dudes and take six dicks up the ass, cause I’m not a little bitch and can put out. U?

The star: ALL THIS TIME I WAS FINDING MYSELF

Eggan: I AM READY FOR DEATH

Candyman: how ‘bout back the fuck off

Stoner McBoner: is this really happening oh god by body is ready

The Purest Word of God: Did someone say God?? ))))))

Spenis: nOT A GOOD TIME DAL

Pink haired spook: IMHERE

Pink haired spook: WHATDDI I MISS

Pricky: typing skillz on point Jish

Ray of sunshine: YOU MISSED MURDER IN THE FIRST THATS WHAT

Get Hard: at least I have something to put out with 

The star: AND I DIDN’T KNWO I WAS LOST

Memelord1.0: FORGET THE RYAN AND BEADBIN DRAMA THIS IS S C A N D A L

Spenis: NEXT WEEK ON HTGAWM

The Purest Word Of God: TOO MUCH SIN

Eggan: GOD IS DEAD DAL ACCEPT THIS 

Pink haired spook: GODISDEADGODISDEADGODISDEAD

Stoner McBoner: WELCOME TO HELL EVERYONE ITS GOOD TO SEE YOU ALL AGAIN

Ray of Sunshine: GOOD GOD LET ME GIVE YOU MY LIFE

The star: WRONG FUCKIG SONG

Pricky: are we just not gonna talk about the season two finale of htgawm now or

Stoner McBoner: CAN IT BEEKER

Memelord1.0: WE HAVE OTHER THINGS TO NUT OVER RN BREAKDANCE

Eggan: GO AWAY BEEP 

Hayl Satan: FRONK YOU GOT NOTHIN TO SAY HUH 

Fronk: huh? you did? oh yeah that’s why you wouldn’t put out! its cause you were ashamed of the fact that you have an- oh I’m not gonna finish that. I’m gonna be the better man here.

Candyman: frank fucking iero i will make your life hell if you say one more word

Memelord1.0: wHAT IS THIS PROBLEM YOU SPEAK OF FRANKY

Memelord1.0: DO TELL

Stoner McBoner: IF HE’S TALKING BOUT WHAT I THINK HE IS IM GOING TO HAVE A STROKE

The Purest Word of God: TOO MUCH SIN TOO MUCH SIN TOO MUCH SIN

Eggan: FUCK FRANK YOU JUST ASSASINATED HIM BYE

The Star: WAKE ME UP (Wake me up inside)

Hayl Satan: ME IT WAS ME HE ASSASINAITED

Pink haired spook: KJBEFIUGWBDSKCVRKWJUCBSLUFBVIUGVLEUIBJRJK

Ray of Sunshine: GE E R ARD WHA TT T

Pricky: no but really that finale tho

Spenis: YEAH THE FINALE TO MY LIFE IM GONE BYE

Get hard has left the chat.

Candyman: i have nothin against torture, I’m just warning you, Frank

Memelordq.0: mm yes torture me daddy

Eggan: PETE SHUTTHEFUCK UP WYDDD

Old Man Jonnie: hey guys, what did I miss 

Old Man Jonnie: oh. 

And then the chat fell silent. Ryan felt like he was gonna pass out, and Brendon had pulled out his laptop and was busy looking for Coliver montages. He had priorities.

“Tomorrow’s gonna suck.” Ryan realized, cupping his face in his hands. 

“I know! I still don't have a date and it’s-“

The look on Ryan’s face said enough.


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two: Feild-trip day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, day two! Believe me, things only go down his from here for the class. 
> 
> (Sorry if some parts seem a little skippy, I'm working on fixing it!)
> 
> Again- Thank you so much to my editor, he's amazing and I love him so much!
> 
> Brendon: Pricky  
> Ryan: Stoner McBoner  
> Spencer: Spenis  
> Dallon: The Purest Word Of God  
> Jon: Old man Jonnie  
> Patrick: The Star  
> Pete: Memelord1.0  
> Gerard: Get hard  
> Mikey: Candyman  
> Frank: Fronk  
> Ray: Sunshine  
> Josh: pink haired spook  
> Hayley: Hayl Satan  
> Lynn-z: the b00b  
> Meagan: eggan  
> Tyler: Burgerface

Brendon awoke Tuesday morning far less enthusiastically than he had the previous day. His room still smelled like Ryan, which he greatly appreciated. It was little things like this that kept Brendon out of the gutter. He had a knack for keeping his glass half full. Even when his mother woke him up half an hour early for a field trip he had no interest in going to. Brendon and his mother had been quarreling about it for at least twenty minutes.

“It’s half of your grade for science class, Brendon. You have to go,” his mother wearily reminded him. Brendon rolled over and groaned into his pillow, making sure he was loud enough for his mother to hear from down the hall.

“Science? Science? Mom, it’s the zoo. It’s for third graders. The seniors get to go to D.C.,” Brendon complained. There was nothing appealing about going to the zoo that day. Not with everything that was going on. Being trapped on a bus with Gerard and Frank’s angsty asses? No thanks, thought Brendon. 

“Yes honey, I know, and you’ll get to go next year. Assuming you pass this year,” his mother replied, and slammed the washing machine door.

“Hey!” he shouted, insulted and little bit worried she was right. His mother giggled as she stepped in.

“C’mon. Get up. You have to pack your backpack today. I’ve gotta take your sister to school. Go,” she said, still smiling. Brendon threw back his covers and slid onto the floor in only his plaid boxers. His mother took a whiff of the room. 

 

“Smells funny… Girly. Was Ryan here yesterday?” she asked, dropping his clean clothes on his bed. Brendon grunted in response. His mother said nothing more, and left him to his own devices. Full of hate for every living creature on Earth, he sat up. He dug through his pile of folded clothes, making sure that it was no longer folded. He dug out a pair of particularly tight jeans and a t-shirt. He spaced out as he pulled them on, lost in planning his possible asking out methods for the day. He did, in fact, have plenty of ‘meat specimens’ to chose from. All of his friends were mostly secretive about their sex life (if they even had one). But even after examining each of them, he had concluded most were single. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have ideas spinning into stories in his head. He unplugged his phone from his charger by his bed and plopped down on his floor. He still had time to mess around.

Fifteen minutes of Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat later, he shoved his phone in his back pocket and ran downstairs, singing any song that popped into his head. Music generally cleared his head, and today, despite the circumstances, it was no different. 

“Soda pop and ritalin!” Brendon screeched as he flew into the kitchen. His sister’s homework blew of the table and landed on the floor. Brendon expected shouting, but she seemed too busy pouring over something that looked about as fun as shoving a pretzel stick down your dick to care. He shrugged it off and poured some orange juice directly into his mouth from the carton. 

“Brendon!” his mother scolded. He jumped, and poured orange juice down his front, staining his shirt, and sending a chill down his spine.

“Fu-“ He caught his mother’s eye. “Rick. Frick,” he finished. She kept agitated eye contact. He gulped and ran back out of the kitchen, rattling his sister’s homework for the second time. This time he heard, “Brendon, stop it!” as he ran up the stairs. He smiled to himself.

His room was cluttered with just about everything you could imagine a teenage boy having. Skateboards, video games, tissues, chargers out the ass, and more. Jesus Of Suburbia had not finished blasting in his head yet, and he sung to it as he writhed out of his shirt and dug around for a new one. He was suddenly pulled out of his psyche by a small floral object in the corner by the tv. He wandered over to the lump and picked it up. It was light grey and had softly painted poppies on it. Ryan’s scarf. Brendon stared at the thing for a moment, in confusion. He hadn’t even remembered Ryan wearing a scarf yesterday. That seemed odd, as the two had talked for hours before Ryan was called home late in the evening. Instead of calling Ryan and asking him whether he actually wore a scarf yesterday, like he wanted, Brendon pocketed it. At long last, Brendon spied his only other clean shirt and yanked it on. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his clock and the time. 7:20. He snatched up his purple jacket which he, for unknown reasons, loved insistently. With all his (and Ryan’s) belongings, he skipped down the hallway, slid down the banister, and bolted into the kitchen. He snatched an egg off of his sister’s plate, and shoved it into his mouth. A burning sensation ran down his throat, along with the piping hot egg. His sister kicked him from her chair, but he had learned over the years to avoid that. His lunch hit him in the face, which he then grabbed from the floor and threw in his backpack. He wiped his watery eyes, grabbed his backpack, unfinished homework included, and bolted out the door, only managing a feeble “Bye!” on his way out.

The drive to Dallon’s house seemed longer that day, and he didn’t know why. They pulled into a parking spot and wearily climbed out of the car. The bell had not yet rung, and people were still walking inside. Dallon was grateful of this, for the rules about prom week still applied, no matter how tiresome his friends were. The two walked to class together, shoulders brushing lightly. It was undoubtable the two were close, but not like Ryan and Brendon. It was one of those secrets high school keeps well. And that way, you won't want to know what you don’t know about. That usually kept Pete’s mind out of the gutter. Brendon nudged Dallon.

“Are you going on the field trip today?” He asked, as they continued to stroll towards the front door. Dallon threw his head back and groaned.

“Ugh. Only if I have to. I’d actually rather be at church,” Dallon replied, holding the door for Brendon. Brendon snorted back in agreement, walking into the school. Dallon followed, walking as slowly as possible. He didn’t want to be late, exactly, but he didn’t want to be there either. The two parted as Dallon turned down his hallway, and Brendon sulked past his locker. He would rather take an entire day of testing than the zoo. It wouldn’t surprise him if he died in a zoo in a past life. It would at least explain his intense hatred of them. 

When he walked into class, Ms. Benoit was straightening papers on her desk, with a fanny pack and a visor. He stifled a laugh just looking at her, and at least three kids burst out laughing from his face. Ms. Benoit looked very confused.

“Good morning, Brendon. Please take your seat,” she said calmly, although, if the sweat on her brow was any consolation, she was anything but calm. Brendon raised his eyebrows, and quickly strode over to his chair. The moment he sat down, Pete nudged him.

“Is she freaking out, or what?” Pete snickered. Brendon snorted and turned back to the front as Ms. Benoit cleared her throat, voice cracking in the process.

“Okay, class. Today we’ll, um, be going to the zoo. I hope you brought stuff. I only just found out about this last night, since I guess you guys got permission slips in your advisory. Right?” she asked. Nods were exchanged. She took another shaky breath and looked hopelessly at her messy desk. “Uh, yeah. Well the busses should be here-“ A counselor poked his head in the door.

“The busses are here! Let’s go!” he smiled. Ms. Benoit looked like she might pass out, and the class was starting to choke on the laughs they were holding back. She led the way to the door, and the class stood up, stretched, and followed. Brendon had just about the same amount of enthusiasm as Ms. Benoit. Pete saw the dying light in his eyes, and locked their arms. If it weren’t for Pete, Brendon might not have even gone to school today. He was a lifesaver.

“Pete, when will you stop being gay? You have a girlfriend. Unless Meagan has something she wants to say-“ Bob began. Meagan smacked him in the head with her backpack.

“Suck my dick, Bob,” she spat, strutting past him and linking her arm with Pete’s other, with Bob, Lindsey, Ray, and Josh in tow.

“We’re taking a bus with Mr. Vance’s class,” Ms. Benoit announced. Everyone groaned as they walked down the front steps of the school towards the bus, where Mr. Vance’s class already was. And there, at the front of the line, only separated by a few people, were Frank and Gerard, looking anywhere but each other. Ms. Benoit tried to give directions quietly to the class, but friends began to reunite, and she got walked all over. It was unclear whether the two classes were supposed to sit together or not, but no one seemed to care. Mikey strode over from the second bus and clung to Gerard’s arm. Gerard smiled at him and hugged him. Mikey waved a curt goodbye and ran back to his friends in the other class. It was odd to see the two Ways interact, to say the least. They seemed to have cryptophasia, which made talking to them very difficult. Brendon ignored that nagging thought in the back of his head, begging him to get involved in everything, and stepped in line instead. Brendon noticed Dallon, just up ahead, broad shoulders and thin frame sticking out above everyone. Brendon pushed through the hoard, and caught up with Dallon as he climbed on the bus.

“Where’re you sitting?” Brendon asked nervously. He was trying his best to stay away from all the bullshit flying around, but that was like denying a child of food for three days. It just didn’t happen. Dallon shrugged.

“Probably with Spencer.” 

Brendon sighed. At least Dallon was being reasonable and not making a huge deal over all of this, he thought.

“Unless Spencer is being an idiot and sitting with Gerard.” Dallon finished. Brendon inwardly groaned as he split away from Dallon and took a seat in the middle. He watched as the remainder of the classes filed in the bus. Half went straight to the back, not even making eye contact with those who sat in the front, and the rest plopped down at the nearest available seat. Seat belts clicked and the doors clanked shut. The moment the bus pulled onto the road, phones were in hands, earbuds were playing music, and there was silence. Not exactly what one would expect from a group of high schoolers, but a better alternative, nonetheless. Brendon was peacefully playing some orchestral music through his headphones in a vain attempt to ignore everyone and everything. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but his hands stayed firmly clasped on his lap. Seconds later it buzzed a second time. He stalled for a moment by picking at his nails, but it didn’t help him ignore his longing for details. He bit his tongue in anger, but picked up his phone anyway. He had been included in another fucking group chat. Something he found quite funny was that both Gerard and Frank were excluded. He set his phone down on the seat and turned his body around so that his back was up against the cold bus wall and his feet were on the bench. He pretended to not to care about the texts, but pulled his phone onto his lap and opened Skype. As usual, it took fucking forever. When finally it opened, and the mess that was the chat was exposed, he sighed in self hatred and began to read the ass-hatery. 

It was mostly just whining about the lame field trip, which Brendon was thankful for. He carefully read each entry, word by word, always checking for some double sided message. Most people thought it was stupid, but it always paid off when Brendon brought up something no one else had noticed. He reached the end of the long strand of messages, typed a few quick worded responses, and sighed contently. He felt a ding from his lap, and inwardly collapsed. Mikey had spoken up.

Candyman: Why isn’t my brother here,, he didn’t do anything wrong

Memelord1.0: Cause none of us want to fuckin deal with it. Gerard was an ass, and the two will fuck and get over it soon enough

Brendon could very nearly feel the regret in the air after Pete sent that. An odd chill fell over the bus as an even worse silence filled in the gaps. Most people weren’t even on the group chat, and still, the tension was unbearable. Pete, as Brendon had thought, did instantly regret the text. He debated deleting it for a second. What’s done is done, he thought, and crossed his fingers. A moment later his phone dinged.

Private message from Candyman.

He rolled his eyes, but clicked regardless. He couldn’t just shut Mikey out, despite their clashing opinions. Mikey had only said one word. Listen. But Pete was sure there was more to come, from the long ass text he knew he was about to get. Mikey, on the other hand, was furious. He had put up with Pete’s bullshit for two, going on three years now, and he was ninety-nine percent done with him. Pete could use Mikey however he damn wanted, and Mikey was perfectly fine with that. But he couldn’t lay a finger, or word, on Gerard. Until now. And that’s when the shit storm came.

Candyman: Alright Pete, you fucking listen to me. I don’t usually freak the fuck out over stupid crap like this but honestly??? the fuck is wrong with you? You could literally insult anyone else I know and I probably would’ve laughed and agreed but not my god damn brother, okay? He just fucking dumped his boyfriend, and the week of god dam prom, so would you show a little respect? ffs could you act like a normal person for once instead of keeping your head in your ass and writhing on your self esteem. i’ve put up with you for fucking years, pete. and i’ve liked it for a while, recently. but then, holy shit, you hit me right where it hurts okay, and not just me. Gerard is family. and yeah, i know this sucks for all of us, but just back the fuck off. 

Pete stared at his phone in awe. He glanced up at Mikey from the back of the bus where he sat with Frank and his team. Mikey shuddered and turned around out of habit. He always could tell when someone was looking at him, despite the fact he always argued that it was impossible. The two looked at each other for a moment and Pete instinctively gulped. He had never been on the receiving end of Mikey’s death stare, and it was quite unpleasant. Mikey looked away, apparently suddenly disinterested in Pete’s silent whining. Pete wasn’t known particularly well for being they type to silently seethe, and for good reason.

Memelord1.0: Sorry your brother is a twat. Not my fault. 

And he clicked send. Pete’s guess was that Mikey had taken out his headphones to listen in on his reaction, as Mikey always cared what Pete thought. Pete heard the faint buzz of Mikey’s phone, and saw the violently angry flare of red spread up his neck. The bus jolted to a stop at a traffic light, and Pete knew what was coming to him the moment he heard Mikey unclip his seat belt. None of the teachers seemed to notice Mikey stand up from his place in the front of the bus and storm down the aisle towards Pete. Even if the staff was clueless, the students sure weren’t. They all watched, and recorded, as Mikey stomped down the aisle, punched Pete in the nose, and bolted back to his seat. Pete’s nose exploded into bloody fireworks, that he tried to contain with his palm, which didn’t work at all.The bus started to roll again, just as Mikey sat down. He yelped a little at the g-force, causing Ms. Benoit to turn. She studied Mikey for a second, but her eyes quickly flickered to Pete. 

“Pete, oh my gosh! Are you alright? Are-are you dying? How did this happen already? Oh my gosh I- Are you okay?” she stuttered. Mikey turned around and cocked his head at Pete menacingly. 

“Y-Yeah sorry Miss. Just got a nose bleed. No problems here, no sir-ee.” Pete tripped over his lies. Mikey smirked at him and turned back around. He crossed his arms contently.

Brendon was busy pretending he hadn’t seen what just happened, and that he wasn’t dying to know what occurred between the two to make Mikey lash out like that. It was always a good plan to anticipate everyone’s next move, which was something Brendon had developed. He didn’t dare go to Pete and just ask because Pete wouldn’t tell him, and he would mock him for still being the drama king. He also couldn’t go to Dallon, which was very Earth shattering to Brendon. So he sat, seethed, and entertained himself by imagine just what it was that Pete said.  
This didn’t keep him busy for nearly as long as he had hoped, because soon enough he was bored again, and the zoo was just coming into sight. He pulled out his phone and wearily checked Skype. Nothing had happened since Mikey’s strike. Brendon was so screwed. 

He eventually fell asleep, drooling against the bus window as the bus pulled into the designated parking spot, and Mr. Vance and Ms. Benoit stood. He began to speak in his slow, bold tone, that kept the students very sleepy and very much awake all at once. Brendon, who was already asleep, stayed that way, until Ms. Benoit yelped his name very loudly, and he jolted awake. She smiled sadly at him and turned back to the class. Brendon lolled his head back, and it hit the glass with a thump. 

Mr. Vance gave out just about all the boring instructions and rules one could think of before finally letting people off the bus. The class tried to seem calm and contained, but the sooner they got off the bus, the better the chances of any of them actually doing anything that day. Dallon immediately sought out Brendon, and the moment his feet his concrete, he rushed through the students. 

“Brendon, oh my gosh, what just happened?” Dallon yelped in a voice that didn’t really make it sound much like a question. Brendon shrugged and pulled Dallon along with him as he walked.

“You might be able to pretend you don’t care around other people, but I thought I was special. Honestly if you know how I feel why w-“ 

Brendon shut him up with a glare. 

“Fine, fine,” Dallon laughed. But he knew he had won. 

Both classes and the other busful of students walked into the zoo reluctantly. There was no speeding past the teachers, no trying to find a faster way in, no trying to climb fences. There were only two giant lumps of kids, swarming to leave. Brendon was cramped, tired, and hungry, which was not a good mix for anyone, least of all Brendon. To make it worse, Hayley ran up from behind, slammed her hands down on Brendon’s shoulders, and slammed his to the ground. He looked up at her, shocked, only to receive a scream in the face. 

“I was trapped in a glass case of emotion, and I am not READY FOR THIS RIGHT NOW!” She then stomped off towards Mr. Vance, presumably to fake a stomach ache. Dallon held out a helpful hand, to which Brendon happily complied.

“PDA!” Spencer screeched, pushing in between the two, only ending in Brendon falling again, and getting trampled by the second wave of students exiting the parking lot. 

Bruised and eternally pissed off, Brendon followed a pitiful looking Dallon through the gates towards the entrance of the zoo. Mr. Vance, Ms. Benoit, Mr. Fornell, and Ms. Todd had all gathered to the front of chaotic chatter boxes. Mr. Fornell was already speaking in his unruly loud voice.

“As many of you know, you are all nearly adults now, and due to the lack of time today, we will be splitting up. This means you must be responsible, respectful, and safe. In return for this behavior, you will be receiving your designated iPad from school to communicate with the rest of your class. Lunch will be at twelve-thirty, and if I don't see you there, I’m calling the cops. So be there.” He took a step back and made room for the other three teachers to pass out iPads. Brendon thought this was an absolutely terrible idea, and he was right. The moment his class laid there grubby hands on the technology, Skype was up and running and words were flying. 

Mr. Fornell gave one last speech, which was interrupted by Mr. Vance, who had some not- so-kind words for certain members of his class, and then the wild bunch set off. Brendon had no interest in the assignment, nor his group, and walked straight over to the center of the zoo where the lemurs were. He rather enjoyed watching the lemurs ever since Ryan had once told him that he reminded him of lemurs. From that day forward, Brendon had had some crazy fascination in them. He plopped down on the bench, kicked his feet up, and squawked at some pigeons, before settling down finally. He pulled up the tab for his assignment, and lazily read over the instructive details, before deciding it was total bullshit and that even his insane friends would be more fun. He instantly regretting logging in because the moment the access went through, his notifications were blowing up.

The b00b: Pe. eT E AR E YOU O K A YYT

Eggan: B AB S W H T A

Sunshine: yEAH TF WAS UP WITH THAT????

Candyman: idk what you guys are talking about

Spenis: well we weren’t talking to you so,,,

Memelord1.0: no but seriously guys?? I got a bloody nose?? Whats the dealio??

Pink haired spook: THE DEALIO IS UR A BITCH ASS LIAR AND MIKEY PUNCHED YOU IN THE FACE WE ALL SAW IT PERE DONT YOU LIE TO ME

Pink haired spook: pere. pepe.

Pricky: Pierre: Bottled at the mountains source

Stoner McBoner: Brendon that’s not even the right slogan

Brendon heard an oddly familiar giggle and looked up. Ryan was about twenty feet away, and had not noticed him yet. He took this opportunity to take a picture of him flipping Ryan off, with Ryan in the frame. Ryan’s face lit up when he saw the picture and he instantly looked around for Brendon. Their eyes locked, and the glare they shared would've been enough for Pete to come on the spot. 

Stoner McBoner: im gonna throw u in the alligator pit

Pricky: then whose ass would you stare at?

Brendon was getting into dangerous and previously untouched territory, and it was making both of them a tad anxious. Brendon was tapping faster than usual, and Ryan’s fingers were ablaze from typing too quickly. 

Stoner McBoner: Pete’s 

Brendon couldn’t help but feel a little shell shocked at that, not that he knew why. He grumbled incoherently to himself, while he looked back over his assignment numbly. He was having a bad enough day, and to make it worse, the assignment was part scavenger hunt, as if they weren’t being treated immaturely enough. 

Hayl Satan: aww is our precious little blackboard getting jealous? brings tears to my eyes.

The Star: i’ll share my tissues if you want

Pricky: y would i be jealous??/?? im not a Gay

Memelord1.0: hA

The Purest Word Of God: are you just not gonna do the work or??

Spenis: aww you think we actually do work!!1! how cute. 

Pink haired spook: ha. ha ha ha ha. hAH . HAHAHAHAA

Eggan: yes thank you for your input josh

The Purest Word Of God: jeez all i did was ask a question

Brendon smiled sadly at Dallon. He really did try so hard, but these kids were just way beyond him. Growing up in Salt Lake City, you had at least one mormon friend, and Dallon was their signature mormon friend. There was nothing he could do about it now. He was a couple years too late at that point. 

While Dallon and the few other people who had mild interest in passing science or getting decent grades wandered around searching for answers, the rest of the chat was left in shambles. Mikey randomly added Gerard, to which Pete retaliated to by adding Frank. It was the beginning of the end, and they all knew it.

Pink haired spook: Im just a city boi

The Star: may i join this song

Pink haired spook: but of course

Eggan: are we all pulling a Brendon(tm) now and ignoring everything cause if so im totally down for this

The b00b: i second this

Pink haired spook: liVIN IN SOUTH DETROIT

Pricky: not my fault some chick pulled a dick move and dumped the wEEK OF PROM and now im diSTRACTED

Stoner McBoner: *dickstacted

Hayl Satan: a dick move? kinda like your entire existence?

Stoner McBoner: yyyYOOOOOOOO

Memelord1.0: YOOOOOOOO BEEFDONG WHAT U GOT TO SAY TO THt

Pricky: #dingdongherecomesmyschlong 

Pricky: FUCK I MEANT NOTHIGN 

Pricky: also ryan stop being so fOOKIN GAY 

Stoner McBoner: FITE ME BEEFDONG

Memelord1.0: IM NUTTING YES PLEASE FITE

Eggan: PETE NO

There wasn’t much else to say after that. Patrick and Josh went through the entirety of that song, which resulted in some very angry comments from both Brendon and Lindsey. The lemurs were very interesting to Brendon, and watched them for quite some time. He even found that one of the questions on the assignment was about them, for which he was glad. He would at least be able to turn in one answered question. Dallon would be proud.

Brendon noticed lunch was drawing nearer, and he assumed he would most likely have a second assignment after lunch which he wouldn’t want to do either, let alone both at the same time, so he began to roam like the rest of the juniors. He got seventy-five percent of the way done, before he got a reminder lunch was starting in ten minutes. He sighed loudly, and began to drag himself towards the playground where they would be eating. He was reaching the point where he was unsure he even was a junior, from the way he was being treated. He found the playground quite nearly uninhabited except for a few toddlers and the entirety of the Juniors from East High. It was a pitiful sight. He sighed tiredly and meandered over to his friends who had formed a circle in the sandbox. His mood only worsened when he noticed Frank and Gerard sitting opposite each other in the circle. He pouted over to the pit and sat down in between Dallon and Pete. The moment he sat down, Ryan took a deep breath, mixed with spurts of laughter and presumably landed the punch line of a joke he’d been telling for the last ten minutes.

“And then suddenly I was on the floor, the squid was all over the walls, and Jon was still shrieking in the bathroom, with orange juice pouring under the door!”

This ridiculous conclusion made Pete’s sandwich spew out of his mouth and land all over the sandbox. Brendon shoved him and ripped open his backpack. He’d had just about enough of Pete for the day. Pete and Ryan had both doubled over laughing at this point and Lindsey just looked disappointed in the two of them. Brendon was just disappointed in general that day. 

As the rest of the clique arrived from their various posts, with brand new stories to tell, Brendon began to feel a little better. His friends were working their magic and his social butterfly instincts were kicking in again. His self confidence had almost completely repaired itself, and he looked up to his second choice for prom. Josh was smiling in his food, and alternating from looking at his phone and watching Patrick talk animatedly about some ridiculous thing he did in sixth grade. Brendon had found the story quite interesting for a while, but he knew what he had to do before he let himself go. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly Josh got up and excused himself to the bathroom. Just a few more moments of horror, thought Brendon. He shook the worry from his head and tuned in to what had to be slightly better conversation than the constant screaming in his head. 

“I still can’t believe you’re gay, Spence,” Lindsey spoke up, sighing. She took a bite of her salad and looked up at her target, who looked very caught off guard. Everyone nodded in agreement. Brendon didn’t agree. Not with the way he dresses, Brendon thought to himself.

“Dallon,” Spencer chewed his food for a moment. “Doesn’t count.” Dallon clutched a hand to his heart and pretended to look shocked.

“And I thought we had something.” He gasped, turning away from Spencer. Spencer laughed and punched him in the shoulder lightly.

“Fuck off, Dallon.” He giggled. Seconds later he looked around nervously, clearly hoping no teachers had caught that last remark. Apparently Mr. Fornell was quite strict on the swearing policy, unless you were Mr. Fornell. A few people chuckled at his reaction, then went back to their food. On Skype there seemed to be endless things to say, but here in person, it was much more awkward. Especially at the zoo, Brendon scowled internally. Brendon was very nearly done with his lunch when the bathroom door slammed suddenly. No one even bothered to look up. No one cared. The missing member of the friend group, Josh, plopped down in his respective place in the circle, followed by Tyler, his friend who didn’t talk to a whole lot of people beside Josh. He’d spoken to Brendon quite a bit the previous year, as well as Patrick and Joe. Joe and Andy didn’t really associate with this particular group, because they wished to retain some intelligence after high school, which they would not achieve with these people. Tyler opened his lunch, and leaned against Josh lightly. He was a shy kid, and only really opened up if Josh was involved. His hair was messed up and he was looking slightly uncomfortable. The sun was hot and everyone looked that way, but something seemed not quite right to Brendon.

“Where have you two been?” Pete asked, looking them up and down.

“Bathroom break,” Josh replied, digging through his half eaten lunch.

“Together?” Frank criticized. “Huh I thought only girls did that.” Meagan and Lindsey rolled their eyes in unison. Brendon scoured the pair intensely, looking for any clues. It was obvious to everyone they were lying. Everyone except Tyler and Josh, clearly. Tyler reached back behind himself to grab his water bottle, making his shirt shift. And then Brendon saw it. A dark purple bruise on Tyler’s collar bone. Pete must’ve noticed it too because he snorted and raised his eyebrows.

“Wow, and I thought the only friends fucking each other here were Brendon and Ryan!” Pete exclaimed, to the shock of everyone in the group and everyone around them who heard. Spencer sent a second very anxious look towards Mr. Fornell. 

 

“For the last damn time! We are not fucking!” Ryan screeched, much to the amusement of literally everyone else but Brendon. Spencer nudged Ryan and glared at him. Apparently Mr. Fornell had quite the mean streak, not that anyone had ever seen it besides Spencer.

“Sure,” Pete mumbled sarcastically.

“Well, at least Tyler and Josh are,” Mikey sighed, laying back on the wooden barrier of the sand box. Josh’s blood ran cold. Tyler’s head jerked up and he stared at Mikey, wide eyed. 

“We’re- We’re not-“ Tyler stuttered nervously, looking around for sympathizers. 

“That bite on your shoulder disagrees with you, Tyler,” Dallon interrupted. 

“Yeah, you definitely didn’t have that before lunch.” Spencer affirmed. Tyler looked down to see his continuously darkening love bite on his shoulder. He blushed profusely and yanked up his jacket to cover it. Josh put his face in his hands. Brendon made a mental strike on the list of people to ask. Josh was definitely a no-go. 

The rest of lunch was difficult for Brendon. He couldn’t decide whether he could involve himself in the new Tyler and Josh drama or not. He supposed it was somewhat related to the already existing drama, and it was connected to his own personal difficulties, but no one knew that. But then of course Pete would make a stink over it, and everything would go to hell from there. So Brendon once again denied himself of glorious redemption. Tyler and Josh seriously were not having what was being served to them by the hand of the drama class. They refused to respond to anything they were asked, which made Brendon feel a little better. He even laughed a little when Pete asked which one tops. He figured no one would notice his withdrawal, but one person sure did. That same one who could not have been more pleased when he found Brendon in the worst position he’d ever been in. Ryan watched Brendon throughout the entirety of lunch, which was not very interesting, and he had some stories he’d love to have told. But instead he studied Brendon very closely, searching for any clue as to what would make him feel better. He felt the familiar twinge in his stomach when Brendon laughed at Pete’s ridiculous question. Brendon’s smile was the closest thing to God that Ryan had ever felt. By the time lunch was drawn to a close, Ryan had said nothing and Brendon looked at glum as ever. 

Surely enough, there was a second assignment to complete, and this time, much to Brendon’s infinite displeasure, it was done in groups. Ms. Todd had even gone into full detail on how to use Skype to communicate with your group when you split apart. Brendon rolled his eyes a great deal during all of the announcements. Ryan appeared behind him near the end. He would've put his head on Brendon’s shoulder if Pete wasn’t staring him down to intensely. Ryan glared back at him and his still bloody nose. By the time Ryan had seen enough of Pete’s bloody face, the teachers had finished talking, and the students were dismissed to grab their things and go. Brendon, who had not noticed Ryan, wandered back to the sandbox. He picked up a random iPad and grabbed his backpack. He would’ve given anything to be placed into another group, but he could already feel his name being added to the new group chat. As it soon turned out, both of the group chats. Both Frank and Gerard wanted him on their side, somehow ignorant enough to think that Brendon would come off of his rampage for them. He told them both explicitly to stop being a prat, and leave him alone. He would need at least another day to find his next target.

The group chat stayed silent as people wandered to their new locations for the assignment. Brendon had no clue what this one even was about. All he knew was that he was going to the alligator pit and he would not hesitate to throw someone in. He sat down on the bench by a small family with a young boy. He was looking excitedly at the alligators and pointing happily.

“Crocodile! Crocodile!” he screamed, laughing at the same time. The mother smiled at him and nodded. Brendon felt a warm glow from this leisurely family, and turned back to his assignment with new found heart. He felt his new found heart drop a little when he read the directions of his essay, but sighed and pulled himself back together with only the word ‘crocodile' in his ears.

He blasted out half an essay before someone noticed his rather unfriendly words on the chat. It was Pete, of the Pete, Meagan, Joe, Spencer, Dallon, Jon, Bob, Tyler, and Frank side chat.

Memelord1.0: wOah salty boi here’s just bummed that ‘ol Ry Ro isn’t taking him to prom and then busting that sausage up that aSS

Pricky: says you who most likely spent a good five hours jacking off to Mikey’s instagram profile picture

Eggan: no that was my pfp

Dallon: bullshit meagan

Spencer: y’all back the fuck off of Backhoe brendon here k

Memelord1.0: woah guys chill all im doing here is stating the Truth. and the truth is that Brendon is a sALTY boi here cause dallon wont notice him. y’all saw the Shoulder Brush(tm) and the Helping Hand(tm). even u spence. that them’s the facts

That was the final straw for Brendon. Spencer was buy shouting profanities at Pete, while Brendon dug through the bowels of the iPad he thought was his for something nasty he had saved. As Brendon scrolled through the photos it quickly became apparent that he had not grabbed his iPad, and was holding someone else’s. He had a few vague ideas of whose it might be, but everything in his head jolted to a stop when he found the very picture he was looking for. It seemed someone else had saved the accidentally leaked picture too. Brendon thought he had been the only one, but apparently not. He selected the picture and sent it without a moment’s hesitation. He then felt the same regret he was sure Pete had felt earlier when he said some things to Mikey, and Brendon felt his own punch in the nose coming along. Then he realized that he had not sent it to either Frank’s chat nor Gerard’s chat, but the very chat that included both groups. And then his nose felt a whole lot worse. 

Stoner McBoner: What thE FUCK IS THAT OH MY

The b00b has left this chat.

The Star: WHOSE DICK IS THAT

Get Hard: WHO DID THIS BRENDON WHY

Candyman: PETE OH MY GOD

Pink haired spook: BRENDON WHOSE DICK IS T, THA TT

Pricky: He who is lain up the anus of The Drama Lord

Spenis: ryan?

Pricky: honestly? i came here to have a good time

Fronk: PETE

Ray of Sunshine: PETE NO

The Purest Word Of God: MIKEY HOW DID YOU KNOW TH A ,T T WAS P. E TE

No one replied. Everyone waited hopefully for Mikey to respond, but they all knew deep down that he wouldn’t. No one really knew what went on with Mikey and Pete, but no one asked either. Brendon smiled to himself at what he created. This was certainly drama he could enter. He decided to figure out his next prey that night, because right then was reserved for dishing out sweet revenge. Moments later, he received a Skype call from Ryan. He happily answered, smiling his natural shit eating grin. “Brendon…how, where, and why?” he asked, not able to keep a straight face. Brendon knowingly smirked at Ryan and Ryan smiled back. Brendon really was the drama lord.

~

Pete was mortified. He knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut, and this is what he got for disobeying himself. All of his friends, minus Lindsey possibly, had seen and saved his actual dick on their iPads, and that was just not okay with him at all. He was gonna fucking murder Brendon. He stared in horror as his friends shouted more and more over the chat, and his face heated up further. He scrolled back up to see if Brendon had deleted it yet. Nope. It was still there, plain as day. A voice from behind him erupted.

“Mr. Wentz! That is not appropriate!” Ms. Benoit shrieked. She snatched up his iPad and stormed off. He laid back on the bench and shut his eyes. This was too much.

Meanwhile, Brendon was reveling in the attention he was finally receiving. He read through the reactions again and again, surely pushing his essay so far out of his mind, he forgot what he’d even written.

Spenis: fuck oh my gOD PETE JUST GOT HIS IPAD CONFISCATED ABORT ABORT

Hayl Satan: THERE IS NO AIR ONLY DEATH

The Star: MY EYES ARE ON FIRE

Pink haired spook: BRENDON WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

Pricky: God’s work

Eggan: DO YOU FEEL NO SHAME

Pricky: none.

Fronk: FUCKIN B ./ YE 

Get Hard: @FRANK SAME

The entire chat froze. Brendon instantly felt his happiness recede into nothingness again and he was back to where he started from. 

Pricky: that’s my cue to skidoo see y’all back at home base

He quit Skype and returned to his essay, which he had to reread. He had in fact forgotten what he’d written. Fifteen minutes of alternating between staring at alligators and bullshitting his way through his essay, he packed up, waved at the family next to him, and began to walk back to the meeting spot. The memories of what he’d just caused flowed back as he neared the entry way. He arrived mere seconds before Pete emerged from the south side of the zoo, looking like a wreck. Brendon almost felt a little bad for him. The rest of the group clambered over to him screeching at the top of their lungs. Everything melted together into one verbal shitstorm. 

“PETE!”

“PETE, WHY?”

“TOO MUCH, PETE.”

“DICK IS LOVE, DICK IS LIFE!”

Pete’s face had turned a bright shade of red as he slowed his pace to avoid being smothered by his friends. He knew they meant no harm, but he was feeling a little betrayed by all of them. Suddenly Dallon strode over importantly and proudly declared,

“The king is temporarily dead and I am his queen, he said so himself, so sit your butt down and let’s treat this like adults.” Pete was even the tiniest bit appreciative of Dallon taking control because anything was better than Brendon. Everyone sat like they were being held at gunpoint. Dallon cleared his throat and began,

“The court is here today to discuss the weenie of one Peter Wentz. Today, at one-ish, most of us witnessed-“ 

But Lindsey suddenly bolted from the opposite side of the walkway and was screeching in a matter of seconds.

“WHOSE FUCKING HARD ASS DICK WAS ON THAT GOD FORSAKEN GROUP CHAT I SWEAR TO-“

“Lindsey!” Ms. Benoit gasped. Lindsey stopped dead in her tracks and gulped.

“Sorry, Ms.” She apologized, smiling sweetly at Ms. Benoit. She then turned and glared at the gaggle of maniacally laughing group on the ground. One look at Dallon was all it took for her to take her seat quite curtly.

“I hope you all choke,” she grumbled, glaring at everyone and everything in the vicinity. Dallon smirked at her, before continuing gracefully.

“I think we should begin with-“

“Therapy?” Gerard cut in. Snickers arose.

“Thera-Pete,” Mikey mumbled. The snickers erupted into full blown laughter; Brendon included. He began to think that perhaps something good could come of the day. 

After a long talk that Dallon mostly led, about God knows what, he dove into the real nitty gritty. 

“Now, I shall divulge into the subjects that you are all most interested in. Let’s begin: first I would like to make it very clear to anyone who may not have heard: This is Pete’s dick.”

Lindsey gagged and made some other very disgusted sounding noises. 

“Who sent it?” Ray asked from the back of the group.

“Ah, a very good question. Brendon was the one to send it,” Dallon replied in his most posh voice ever. All eyes now turned to Brendon who was smiling smugly.

“Why the fuck did you have that on your iPad?” Ray asked.

“Wasn’t my iPad,” Brendon cooly replied.

“Then how’d you know- wait. Whose was it, then?” Josh gasped. Before Brendon even had the chance to open his mouth, Meagan began to yelp.

“MINE! It was mine.”

The way she said it convinced absolutely no one, but still no one argued. Once everyone had moved on, Meagan looked back at Pete, who smiled meekly at her. He was so grateful for her. She did the most incredible things for him, even when he didn’t deserve it. Especially when he didn’t deserve it. That’s just how best friends work.

Pete was very nearly ready to reach the next plane of existence. It had been nearly an hour since they all grouped by the entrance, and Pete had almost blocked out all the laughter with embarrassment and the ringing in his ears. It had almost died down, but Dallon said something and the group erupted into laughter again.

“Dallon, will you please shut up!” Pete shouted. The smile slid of his face and he quickly regained composure. Spencer turned around protectively to face Pete. 

“Mr. Wentz, you’re really not helping your case today,” Ms. Benoit sighed from a few feet back. Pete jumped at her voice, as he had not even noticed her presence. 

“Sorry, Ms.,” He mumbled, staring at his hands. She watched at him sympathetically and crossed her arms. There was a screech of brakes, and the two busses pulled up in front of the classes. 

“Alright,” She sighed. “Get on the bus. I want no talk of this from any of you. When we return to school, I want Pete and Brendon to go directly to the principal. Is that understood?” She asked. Everyone nodded, dead silent. She shook her head sadly, and shooed them onto the bus. 

No one was exactly sure when the field trip was supposed to end, which led them to assume the early return to the school had something to do with Skype. If one good thing had come of the day for Brendon, at least he got a small dose of the drama he loved so much. Luckily, the bus ride home held little to no chatter, which made it easy for the students to rest up. All felt drained for some reason, most of all Brendon. As most of the class slept, Pete sat up worrying. His nose was screaming at him in pain, and his brain was screaming at him just in general. Surprisingly, on the far other side of the bus, Mikey too sat awake. He kept his eyes shut and his breathing slow, which would’ve fooled just about everyone on the bus, if they weren’t all asleep. Mikey tried the entire drive home to sleep, but one thought kept him from that solace. What would happen when word got out that the iPad was his?

~ 

The bus pulled into the parking lot of East High around one o’clock. Pete had hoped traffic would take up more time, but his wishes had not been granted. He still an hour and fifteen minutes left before he could go home and cry. Ms. Todd stood up at the front of the bus, pulled out a whistle, and blew as hard as she could. The loud, shrill noise shot through the bus and woke up every person there. It was a horrid was to wake up, but not the worst she’d come up with. Ms. Todd always had a great story to tell that related to the lesson she was giving. Her class was interesting to say the least. Quite interactive. 

Pete and Brendon clung to each other as they climbed off the bus smack dab in the middle of everyone. They held onto the hope that they would be forgotten sorely, but to no avail. They were almost inside when Ms. Benoit spotted them.

“Pete! Brendon! What did I say? Straight to the principal!” She yelped. The boys looked at each other sadly, and scuffled slowly towards Ms. Mann’s office. The bell for passing period ran, and students spewed out of each classroom. No one paid them a second glance, which they were glad of. News spread fast at East High, but not that fast. 

“We could ditch right now, if you wanted to. No one would see us if we went out the back,” Brendon said under his breath. Pete snorted, but did not smile.

“What, and get murdered tomorrow? No thanks,” he grumbled, stepping into the office. Ms. Mann was already waiting there in her office chair, looking at them tiredly. Pete gulped as she waved them in. The two sat in the chairs she had placed for them beforehand. 

“Guess you were expecting us,” Pete chuckled nervously. She gave him a stern and unsettling look. Pete sunk back into his chair.

“I know better than to expect nothing from you two. Especially on a field trip. It’s a shocker that you made it all the way until after lunch,” she snarled. Brendon couldn’t help but agree. It really was quite a surprise. 

Meanwhile, Homeroom 001 in the band hallway was a wreck. Mr. Jarvis knew when he got his class on the first day of school, that it would be hell. Somehow there was a mixup, and nearly everyone in the clique, and the epicenter of drama, had been selected for his class. The other few were next door, with Mr. Davenport. The two often shared classrooms with one another, and by habit, often shared lesson plans. Over the course of the year, both teachers had managed to quiet them down, and by this far in the year, they were under control for the most part. Mr. Jarvis knew everything about everything, thanks to this class, and his charisma helped the students open up to him. It was a win-win situation.

The students filed into the class, took their seats, and waited for the bell to ring. The ringing noise echoed through the room, and the moment it subsided, an explosion of chatter rang out.

“Ahem!” Mr. Jarvis shouted. With just one word, everyone shut up. 

“Today you will all be working on a special assignment with Mr. Davenport’s class. However, I did not get permission to combine classes today, so you will communicate via Skype.” A few excited gasps were inhaled, and the smile and glint in Mr. Jarvis’s eyes said it all.

“If I see any inappropriate behavior, your iPads will be taken away until next week. Is this understood?” he asked slowly. Seemingly under a trance, everyone nodded slowly, eyes glazed over in excitement. 

“Alright,” He sighed, stepping off of his platform at the front of the room and walking towards the iPad cart. He wheeled it around the class, examining everyone’s faces intently. Mikey accepted his iPad and looked Mr. Jarvis deeply. They eye contact was just a premature apology for what was to come. 

Shortly, everyone was logged onto Skype and certainly not doing the assignment. No one was yet aware of Mikey’s secret, or the harassment he would receive if everyone else found out. 

Eggan: HONESTLY CAN ANYONE EXPLAIN WHAT HAPPENED ON THE FEILD TRIP

Pink haired spook: nO ALL I KNOW IS PAIN

Pink haired spook added burgerface to the chat.

Ray of Sunshine: aww including the bae,, so cute 

Pink haired spook: DROP IT

Burgerface: LET IT GO JESUS

Hayl Satan: IMAGINE JESUS SINGING LET IT GO

Stoner McBoner: STOP

A collective gasp was choked out from a few people in the front of the class, as the door opened suddenly. Mikey tilted his head up, only to see Brendon standing there, looking massively tired. 

Candyman: BRENDON JUST WALKED IN I AM ON FIRE

The Star: PETE’S JUST WALKED INTO CLASS AND MR. DAVENPORT IS NO T P L E A S E D

Get hard: MIKEY I EXPECT JUICY DEETS

Fronk: LINDSEY WHAT IS G GOING ON TELL 

The b00b: Bitch-dorm is talking to Mr. Jarvis. not that i answer to liars like you. 

Stoner McBoner: BRENDON IS MAKING A FORMAL APOLOGY FL I N GME INT O THEE S U N

Stoner McBoner: ‘I’m very sorry I sent a picture of inappropriate nature on the group chat, and sorry to scar you and-‘ HE WAS GONNA SAY TURN YOU ON BUT HE DIDN’T I CRAVE DEATHS SWEET EMBRACE

The b00b: PETE VERY CURTLY WALKED STRAIGHT TO HIS SEAT WITH HIS HEAD DOWN AND PULLED HIS KNEES TO HIS CHEST OH MY GOD WHA T DID Y IOU DO \

The chat continued, ablaze in his hands, but Mikey stopped to think for a moment. He knew the dick pic wasn’t his fault, but all of the sudden he felt a tad guilty for punching him in the nose. It had been rash… but it was for his brother, he decided. Still, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for causing Pete pain and all he really wanted to do was talk to him. He blinked off his worries and returned to the chat casually, but in the back of his mind, he was still working up a plan. 

In Mr. Davenport’s classroom, Pete did in fact have his head in his knees, but he was far from crying. He was also working on a plan, but his was much more different than Mikey’s. When everything seemed to fit together, and he was sure his plan would succeed, he picked up the iPad given to him and logged onto Skype. 

Group chat with The b00b, Hayl Satan, and Eggan.

Memelord1.0: hey guys

Hayl Satan: what’s up

The b00b: PETE HUN ARE YOU OKAY ARE YOU CRYING 

Eggan: PETE BABY ARE YOU OKAY IM SO SORRY THAT HAPPENED

Memelord1.0: thanks guys..

Memelord1.0: hey weird question…

Hayl Satan: lay it on me

Memelord1.0: did you guys get your nails done recently?

Pete smiled to himself. If Brendon could reach that level of asshat-ery, then Pete would have to reach down farther. 

~

The bell rang, and Brendon leapt up. He waved at Mr. Jarvis once before bolting through the door and sprinting down the hallway. Brendon began to feel a little nauseated from what was to come in the next few days. Once Pete regained his nerve, he would have his friends come after him and Spencer. Brendon wasn’t entirely sure that Pete even knew that Spencer dealt a hand in this, but one way or another, Pete would find out. Brendon saw the light from the front doors, and escaped into the bright afternoon light in the blink of an eye. He didn’t stop running until he was off of school property, and thought he was mostly safe. That was, until he turned the corner and saw Meagan, Lindsey, and Hayley standing there and chatting. He gagged at the sight of them, out of instinct. Hayley heard the noise and turned before Brendon had the chance to even think about running.

“Hey Brenny! What’s up?” Hayley asked, walking over to him quickly. He gulped as she raised her hand. In one quick motion, she slapped Brendon across the face and he was down.

Fifteen slow and painful minutes later, Brendon limped into his house. His mom looked up at him from the kitchen table where Brendon was sure his school was on the line. She sighed at him and shook her head. He carried his backpack up the stairs, which felt much higher than they used to. He crawled into his room and collapsed on his unmade bed. His entire life felt like a mess, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He shut his eyes and took a long, relaxing breath. 

“Hey Brendon.” 

Brendon shot up so quickly he fell off his bed. He looked around for the source of the voice, and by the time he was hyperventilating and sure he was hearing things, his eyes landed upon a small black lump in the corner. Brendon stared at him for a few moments before getting up, and walking into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. He watched as some color returned to his face, and by the time he was the color of Hayley’s blush, he walked back into his room. 

“Hey Gee.” He replied, sitting on the floor in front of his bed. Brendon felt a slight breeze and saw his open window. He didn’t need to ask how Gerard got in. There was silence between the two for a few moments before Brendon asked,

“Why are you in my room?” Gerard shrugged and kept his chin on his knees quietly. Brendon looked up at his ceiling for support. He had homework and he also needed to sleep for about twenty hours, so he was gonna have to do something about Gee. 

“Anything you wanna talk about?” Brendon asked quietly. Gerard looked up at Brendon, and Brendon realized why he was here. He could escape the drama in Brendon’s room. There was no where else to go.

“I know things, Brendon. I knew about the dick pic. Secrets I think you know too now, but that’s besides the point. In this whole hell beast that I created, you’re the only one who won’t give me a biased opinion. So thanks, I guess, for staying out of it.” Gee said. Brendon could’ve moved over and helped Gee feel better, and he would’ve too, if only he hadn’t heard Gee say opinions. Brendon now knew that Gee wanted help about something, and that Brendon was still expected to be the drama lord, after hours. Brendon sighed for approximately the fifth time.

“What do you want, Gee?” He asked.

“I don’t know what to do. I feel bad about dumping Frank because I don’t even know if the rumors are true, but if I go back now, it’ll all have been for nothing. It’ll look like I’m cheap and needy, which I am, but that’s whatever. I sort of want to make it worse, which I feel bad enough about, but I also just want to go back to normal. To do something nice, but not nice all at once.” Gerard began to cry. 

“Do something that’ll make him apologize,” Brendon shrugged. “Rub it in.” 

Gerard looked up at him through teary, eyeliner stained eyes. Brendon shrugged again. Gerard rushed forward and threw his arms around Brendon.

“Thank you, Brendon. You have the best ideas.” Gerard laughed, tears still coming out of his eyes. Gerard pulled away and leapt out the window. He landed with a thud and ran away.

“Don’t hurt yourself!” Brendon called. Gerard’s giggle floated down the street with him.

“I won’t, mom!”

Brendon massaged his black eye, and it reminded him that Gerard didn’t even ask about it. He barely even brought up the field trip, which Brendon figured might’ve help bring Gee some happiness. Apparently he was wrong. He lay back on his bed for the second time that afternoon, only this time, no one appeared in the corner of his room. 

After a long thought of the day, Brendon pulled himself onto more pressing matters. Prom. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and made a list of everyone he could ask. He put an X next to Dallon, Spencer, Tyler, and Josh. He looked over his friends and decided that, all in all, asking Pete would have the least embarrassing outcome. He figured it would be a nice surprise and serve as a partial apology, as well as getting Pete a date to the dance. Meagan would be an issue... But Brendon would make the best of it. Their relationship was sketchy as is, so he proposed that he'd just figure something out when the time came. Brendon figured his odds weren’t so bad. 

“Brendon! We need to talk! Come here now, please!” His mother shouted from downstairs. He groaned and stomped out of his room and very nearly threw himself down the stairs. At least he had a plan, he thought.


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard initiates his "bad" idea, and everything just gets a lot worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I've been busy with school and stuff, so here you guys go! Please let me know how you're feeling about this series, so I can get the next chapter up sooner! Thanks!
> 
> Once again:  
> Brendon: Pricky  
> Ryan: Stoner McBoner  
> Spencer: Spenis  
> Dallon: The Purest Word Of God  
> Jon: Old man Jonnie  
> Patrick: The Star  
> Pete: Memelord1.0  
> Gerard: Get hard  
> Mikey: Candyman  
> Frank: Fronk  
> Ray: Sunshine  
> Tyler: burgerface  
> Josh: pink haired spook   
> Hayley: Hayl Satan  
> Lynn-z: The b00b  
> Meagan: Eggan

Brendon’s mother let him off easy, which he was thankful for. He managed to, at the bare minimum, get some rest for the test he had forgotten to study for. In between sleeping and cramming in last minute algorithm’s and dates, he did nothing but fret. The later it got, the more his plan to asked Pete sounded like a bad one. At around two AM, he decided that asking him by text would be the least painful, which might have been the case; If he hadn’t fallen asleep before he pressed send. 

His mother awoke him slowly the next morning. He looked up at her, bleary eyed, for only a moment before letting his head fall back onto his pillow. He let out a pitiful mix between a groan and a sob and and pushed her away.

She pushed him back and mumbled, “Just make sure you get up eventually. You’ve got a math test.” It would’ve been a wise choice to get up then, and study a bit more in the daylight, but, being as he was the one and only Brendon Urie, he went right back to sleep. He got half an hour more of beauty sleep before his phone went off. His heart leapt and he scrambled for his phone and answered. 

“Hello?” For a split second, no one replied. Then, out of nowhere, Dallon spoke up.

“Brendon, this is the second time this week that I’ve had to call you. Are you feeling okay? I mean, I know the whole prom situation has got your brain on hold sorta, but seriously dude; If you want to talk I’ll be here for you. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I hitched a ride with Spencer today, as we’d be late if you went to pick me up. And if you’re still at home you better get your ass up cause school starts in five. Bye, B.” Brendon put down the phone and looked at his clock.

He really did only have about five minutes until school started, which seemed incredibly unimportant to him. Still, he scrambled out of his shirt and pulled on the one from the previous day, which smelled only a little like the zoo. One clean pair of pants later, the scent of the zoo was really catching up with him. He didn’t have time for a shower, as he would be way too late for anything even remotely close to a warning for tardiness, and he’s used all his deodorant. He could hear the washer spinning from his room, which meant no dry clothes. He groaned as he pulled on socks and shoes. There was only one option left, and he wasn’t really a fan of it. He knew Pete would go nuts. Brendon watched the time tick away before acting on instinct and grabbing his gear. 

He snatched up his purple jacket, back pack, and lunch from his floor and bolted out the window. He didn’t exactly know how his lunch had gotten there, but that was out of his mind before he even hit the fence. He stumbled to catch his balance for a second, before sprinting to the other side. He grabbed the rock he’d stashed just under the window for emergencies like this one and hit the latch open. He shoved the window open and crawled inside; Into Ryan’s room. It was, of course, deserted because Ryan was most likely at school like a good boy, which only made Brendon slightly more irritated. He didn’t collapse on the floor and roll around on Ryan’s squishy, soft rug like he wanted to. Instead, and much to the dismay of his constant resentfulness, he strutted over to Ryan’s dresser and yanked open the top drawer. Amongst other assorted bottles of things Brendon would rather not have looked at right then, he found what he was looking for. He contemplated his options, and after decided there weren’t any, he grabbed Ryan’s perfume and sprayed himself a couple times. _Pete’s gonna have a fit,_ he thought angrily. 

Out the window Brendon went, only moments after chucking the small bottle onto the lumpy mattress. He grumbled angrily to himself as he bolted back down the drive and to his car, which was colder inside than his heart. He leapt into his car and was about to turn it on when he spotted someone walking across the street. 

At first, he thought it was a girl from school. He didn’t know everyone, something he’d never admit to anyone, and this girl seemed to slip his mind. She was relatively tall, and he was worried that he’d never so much as noticed her. She looked pretty enough from where Brendon could see her, even though he could only see her back. The noise of the ignition starting seemed to startle her, and she turned around, skirt flying up to her thighs. To Brendon’s surprise and horror, the pretty girl he had been debating asking out, was Gerard. In full drag on a Wednesday afternoon, trotting to school alone. 

Brendon pulled onto the street at breathtaking speed, only to drive three meters and make his breaks scream in agony as he pulled to a fast stop next to Gerard. Gerard was laughing at the apparent look of shock on Brendon’s ghostly white face. Brendon could not roll his window down fast enough. 

“What did you do?!” he gasped, looking him up and down, and quite nearly sitting on the window ledge. Gerard’s happy expression changed, and he took a step back.

“It’s not too much, is it?” he asked nervously. Brendon swallowed dryly and shook his head ravenously. His throat felt like sandpaper and his mind began to wander to horrible places and so he sat himself back down in the car. He look a deep, calming breathing and smiled up at Gerard again.

“No. Don’t tell anyone, but I think it’s a great idea. Good luck,” Brendon nodded enthusiastically. Gerard smiled brightly in response and waved a small goodbye, before skipping down the path towards the school. Brendon pulled out his phone and contentedly sighed. The old rolling waves of the adrenaline from dealing with drama began to pour back in as he created a private chat with Frank. He relished in that feeling. 

~

Frank knew he was going to absolutely hate Wednesday. It was the worst day of the week already, and now he had to deal with his boyfriend (or really, his ex boyfriend) being a jerk. His morning had already been chaos. There hadn’t been any pop-tarts left, and he woke up late, leaving no time for cereal. He had nearly missed the bus, which he now had to take from lack of a ride. Mikey was just being a punk. He pulled out his phone from his backpack he’d very nearly forgotten. Someone was blowing up his Skype.

 

Pricky: ooooooOooOOooOoOooOoOoOoooOoO FRANKIE

Pricky: DEAREST FRONK

Pricky: wrong lever fronk

Pricky: Are u at school yet???? i can’t find you??

Pricky: hey bitchwhistle answer

Fronk: what the fuck do you want

Pricky: oOoO someone’s salty today

Pricky: are you at school yet

Fronk: No obviously not.

Pricky: oh

Pricky: well me neither. gON BE LATE BUDDY BOI

Fronk: is this why you wanted to talk to me

Pricky: no, sadly not. did you wear your tight jeans today

Fronk: why

Pricky: u r in for quite the surprise today

Fronk: ??What kind??

Pricky: a good kind ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Fronk: care to fuckin explain??

Pricky: a really good kink

Pricky: i meant kind

Pricky: no i didn’t

Fronk: I’m really not in the mood for this today breadbasket.

Pricky: sorry m8

Pricky: Ig you’ll just have to see for yourself.

Fronk: whatever

Frank shut his phone off and chucked it back in his bag. He didn’t have the patience for Brendon or much of anything that day. He never had a whole lot of patience anyway, but that day in particular was even worse. The bus lurched to a stop in front of the school, which was somehow still icy in February. Frank didn’t understand the weather, but he did understand how much he hated it. He and the rest of the unlucky kids who were forced to take the bus climbed off the yellow vehicle of suffrage and trudged through the icy parking lot. Frank was pretty sure the ground knew that if he fell, the ground would be the one hurt. _Like Chuck Norris or something,_ he thought. When Frank was fifteen feet from the front door, the bell rang. Most of the students ran to get to class, but not Frank. He just stood there. During every other bad day he’s had, Gerard had walked out of class to join his shit show. _Not today,_ Frank thought. _Today, he had to suffer._

Frank, after mustering up all his patience left, straightened up and walked through the front doors. He kept his head down when he walked to the office for a tardy slip, and all the way to his first class. Which, just so unpleasantly, happened to have Gerard in it. Frank took a deep, calming breath and walked into his class. This was, of course, only to see Gerard, on his knees, facing away from him, wearing a skirt and fishnets. Frank even swore he saw a little lace sticking out from under the skirt. Gerard was reaching for something under his desk apparently, but Frank didn’t care what he was doing. All he cared about was that damn short skirt he was wearing. As well as half the class, apparently. Frank tore his eyes away from Gerard and was met by the cool smirks of half the class, who were all also in drag. _Not good,_ he thought, _not good at all._ Patrick stared smugly at him from behind his glasses. He too was wearing a mini skirt, but this time with tights that had large holes here and there. There was not a uniform for their school, so this had to be planned. And Frank was one big mess of emotions. 

Ms. Shepard looked up from her papers she was grading. 

“Good Morning Frank. You’re late,” she sighed, looking at the clock. "Gerard will you please hand me his late slip.” She commanded duly. Frank sucked in a breath. Gerard turned and noticed Frank in the door, as well as the blush on Frank’s face. Gerard quickly matched Frank’s blush and stood up, twirling around so fast, his skirt flew up. 

Frank thought he was gonna pass out. Gerard blushed immensely, the blush he put on this morning not helping at all. He stumbled over his converse laces on his way over to Frank, skirt lifting up a little when he fell. Frank instinctively shot over to help him up. He held out a hand. Gerard scrutinized him harshly. 

“I can help myself, thanks,” He replied coldly. Gerard pulled himself up agonizingly slowly, which Frank was sure was meant just for him. Gerard held out a hand. Frank stared at him for a second, mind racing. He couldn’t think of what to say or do. Last time Gerard held out a hand for Frank it had been a few nights ago at his house, but that had been for other reasons. Joe coughed loudly, drawing Frank back to the present. He blinked.

“Oh yeah,” he grumbled and pulled out his pink slip and smacked it into Gerard’s hand. Gerard looked a little hurt from this harsh gesture of ‘fuck you’. Frank thought he deserved it. 

Gerard flounced around, and handed Frank’s pink slip to Ms. Shepard. He sent one look at Frank which Frank only barely caught. He gulped and shuffled over to his seat. His seat was, unfortunately, right next to Gerard’s. Frank shoved himself into his chair, trying to hide how obviously flustered he was. He pulled his backpack onto his lap and pretended to be getting something out of it. 

“Frank,” Ms. Shepard spoke. Frank looked up, terrified.

“Since you were the only one late, why don’t you present your essay first. It should teach you not to be late,” she insisted. All hope Frank had left for the day died. He pulled out his essay he had somehow remembered to write last night, when he wasn’t too busy freaking the fuck out. Frank stood up nervously and waddled to the front of the room. Patrick was smirking evilly from his seat, and Gerard was staring at the floor. Or possibly his tights. That’s what Frank was staring at. He couldn’t believe his luck. And by that he meant his lack of it. 

Gerard leaned back and stretched, extending his legs in front of him. Frank coughed and looked back over his essay, which he currently wasn’t able to read. He shot one last glance at Gerard who was biting his lip-glossy lip. Frank physically stumbled.

“Sorry Ms. I don’t feel well. May I go to the nurse?” Frank asked. Ms. Shepard shot a look at Gerard and back to Frank. She wasn’t an idiot. 

“Be prepared to read your essay first thing tomorrow. Go,” she grumbled. Frank nodded, ran over to his backpack, and was out the door in two seconds flat. He stopped outside the door and tried to control his breaths. From the classroom he heard,

“Gerard, since you’re dressed up all nice and pretty, why don’t you go next.” Frank smiled to himself, as he could almost literally hear Gerard’s stomach drop to the floor. Frank took a deep breath and began walking to the bathroom. Screw the nurse. He could fix that better by himself. _But it was the beginning of the end, he thought._

Both Brendon and Pete sadly missed this pivotal moment, but were too engrossed in a horrid test to notice. Both young minds were racked to find the answers for Ms. Benoit’s ridiculous Macbeth test, which neither had prepared for in the slightest. At least Brendon had gotten some three AM studying in, but it was clear he didn’t retain any of it. Brendon looked up from his solitary-like feeling desk and checked the timer on the board. He only had another five minutes until time was up, and he still had another five questions to go. He rubbed his eyes and let out a long high pitched sigh. Pete stifled a laugh from the seat on Brendon’s right. Ms. Benoit growled from the front. 

Brendon looked over the questions, scribbled a few half assed answers down and prayed for forgiveness. Brendon heard the familiar beep of the timer going off, and then a mind boggling exclamation of an air horn behind him. 

“Lindsey!” Ms. Benoit snapped, and jolted so profoundly that her coffee spilled all over her papers.

“Sorry Ms! Must be a day ahead!” she cackled. Brendon groaned inwardly at the prospect of the oncoming prank war, indeed only one day ahead. Sighing, Ms. Benoit stood, and shook some coffee off of her papers. She turned to her class and rolled her head around. She neatly placed her soggy papers back on her desk and began a round of applause for her class. Nearly everyone joined in, except Brendon who knew his round of applause came when he retook the test and got a passing grade on it. To his right, Pete merely looked optimistic. 

“Please bring your papers to the front, and pray I don’t spill any coffee on them,” Ms. Benoit sighed, feeling at peace with her class once again. Students anxiously waddled up the the front, dropped their work on her desk, and bolted back to their seats as quickly as possible, as to avoid the look in her eyes when she noticed the incorrect answers. 

“I do apologize. We actually have a few more minutes than I thought we did. Well, we can talk instead,” she took a long breath in and out, and smiled at her class. “I’m just going to enjoy the peace for a few minutes, because tomorrow will be worse than yesterday.” It seemed to bring her no unsettlement to bring up the previous day, but far in the back, Pete flinched. Brendon, for lack of having a soul, took the opportunity to ask for Pete’s answer. He leaned across the aisle.

“Psst. Pete. Hey, Pete,” he whispered. Pete turned his head nervously. 

“Brendon I would appreciate some peace from you as well, if you wouldn’t mind,” she snapped. Brendon reeled back onto his spot faster than the speed of light. _Not literally,_ he thought, as he went over the science homework he may or may not have forgotten to do. He internally made plans to go to his neighborhood church and undertake confession, but deemed it useless, because he knew his teacher would beat it out of him first. 

The bell rang, shrill and welcomed by the students, as they filed out of Ms. Benoit’s room and dispersed into the bustling hallway. Brendon caught Pete by the arm and pulled him into the bathroom. He shouted a few early warning calls at the Freshmen, who cleared out instantaneously. Pete turned to him, a murderous look on his face. He hadn’t been this mad yesterday, and Brendon thought he might’ve cooled down after getting the girls to beat the shit out of him.

“What happened to your face?” Pete joked, still looking angry, but slightly bemused too.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny Pete. Hey, I wanted to ask you-“ His phone went off like a gun. Startled, he reached for it before his ringtone could ring again. 

“One sec, I gotta take this. Wait here.” Brendon walked into a stall and answered. An urgent, excited, and loud as hell Gerard came shrieking through the line.

“WHAT DO I NAME MS. SCIUTO'S PLANTS?!” Brendon blinked a few times, caught off guard by the odd question. 

“Um, fuck if I know? Look, this isn’t a good time, ask me-“

“BRENDON FUCKING URIE DON’T YOU HANG UP ON ME, OR I WILL LITERALLY CUT OFF YOUR ARM AND FUCK YOU WITH IT WHILE YOU SLEEP,” Gerard shouted. 

“God okay, Uh… Something fancy? I think she’s really into horror? Maybe like… Frankenstein? I dunno,” Brendon replied. 

“Okay… Good enough. You’ve evaded detached limb fucking for one more night. Better count your blessings.” Gerard hung up. Brendon clicked his phone off and exited the stall, already talking once again.

“Hey sorry about that, I-“ But the bathroom was empty. 

~

Pete had found himself something better to do: go to class. He rounded the bend when he heard a troubling sound. A whisper. His name. He turned to see Mikey poking out from a classroom door. He was keeping oddly covered by the door, which Pete thought odd, as Mikey liked to show off and get his opinion of _things._ He wore his classic beanie, but also sunglasses over his eyes which was so very un-Mikey-like. Nonetheless, Pete flew over to Mikey. 

“Where the fuck is my phone?” Mikey hissed through the crack in the door. For a split second, Pete had no idea where his phone was, until he remembered when he’d stolen and hidden it. He tried to hide his smirk, but the look of rage on Mikey’s face was too much. His lips unfolded into a beautiful smile, practically smelling of revenge. If Pete had written “Fuck You” on his lips, it would’ve been less obvious. 

Mikey clenched his jaw and glared at Pete with the ferociousness of a Mourning Dove. The halls were beginning to clear, and Pete would soon be late if he didn’t leave. 

“Look. I’ve got detention during lunch. Meet me in the bathroom during fifth. And you’re gonna give me back my phone. Deal?” Mikey asked. 

“No. You punched me. Suffer, child. Suffer.” Mikey groaned and pinched his brow.

“What do you want, Pete? An apology?” he hissed.

“How about a kiss? To make my nose feel better. Since you nearly broke it,” Pete responded, playfully. Mikey’s glare faltered for only a moment, and Mikey himself was determined to not let Pete bring it up.

“I didn’t break your nose!” he whisper shouted, before containing himself again with a calming breath. “Third floor bathroom. Fifth period. Be there.” Pete rolled his eyes in defeat and began to walk away.

“Please?” Mikey pleaded. Pete wheeled around and smiled. Then, he skipped away.

Pete was late for class, and Mikey did still have detention, but both felt a little better going forward. Neither had what was coming on their minds, but, knowing them, it was bound to happen.

~

Two periods later, Lindsey caught up to Brendon on his way to lunch. There was no apology needed from either side, because Brendon knew he deserved what he got, and so did Lindsey.

“What did you get on the test?”

“A kick in the neck,” Brendon grumbled, sulking down the linoleum coated hallway. 

He twirled his fingers around Ryan’s scarf in his pocket, not thinking twice about Pete’s many possible reactions. Lunch was in full swing by the time the two had finished evaded the inevitable and meandered into the violently loud cafeteria. The first thing Brendon noticed was Ryan, as usual, who was busy trying not to spew water out of his nose. As Lindsey sat down next to Gerard, Brendon realized how glad he was that the group had chosen not to stop collectively eating lunch together because of the drama. That didn’t mean there weren’t long angry stares or insults that made you choke on your food, or make your ears catch fire as Patrick would say, but Brendon still appreciated the clinginess this friend group shared. He hadn’t considered the option that he might’ve had to sit alone to avoid getting wrangled into either scheme, and he wasn’t prepared to think about it at that moment either. 

He took his place next to Pete, which was across from Ryan because Brendon suddenly couldn’t stand to be any farther away from him. Pete was in the middle of telling a tale that, knowing Pete, was more exaggerated than needed.

“My ass that happened, Pete,” Bob grunted from the far end of the table, which usually was Brendon’s throne. Brendon decided not to make a stink over it, due to the fact he was planning on asking Pete fucking Wentz to prom.

“Today on: Bob calls out bs,” Frank laughed, and nearly missed slamming his face in his spaghetti. Lindsey also snorted, but popped her bubble-gum to call attention.

“I usually buy what Pete’s selling, but Pete- If that actually happened then I’ll fuck a snail. If that literally happened, word for word, I will shove a snail up my ass,” she said. Gerard whooped from the other end of the table, far from where Frank was. Pete shook his head in laughter, but suddenly froze, wide eyed. He looked Brendon up and down, which seemed to look nearly as uncomfortable as he felt. Pete leaned in oddly close, and just as Brendon thought things were going to get really awkward, Pete took a sniff. A long, hard, uncomfortable whiff of Brendon. Then he sat back, with a knitted brow and thought. Brendon scooted farther away from Pete, well aware that everyone was watching their weird interaction. Then, like a lightbulb, Pete lit up. He pointed his finger at Brendon like a dagger and shrieked, 

“That’s Ryan’s perfume!” he bellowed, louder than anyone at the table had previously been, combined. A few individuals (Spencer) let out fake gasps. Pete didn’t quite realize they were fake. 

“I know! Wait- Why would Brendon smell like- Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh mY GOD, I CALLED IT! GUYS I FUCKING CALLED IT!” he shrieked. Brendon rolled his eyes and used a copious amount of self control not to look up at Ryan’s face. If he had, he would have seen the look of horror which was easily masking the blush Ryan wished he wasn’t sporting. A total of one person noticed the blush, and that was, of course, Dallon. He then made a mental note to tell Brendon that he may be in some luck. 

Ryan glared at Brendon so harshly, Brendon felt it in his soul. Ryan cleared his throat, in a vain attempt to detour the group from their unfounded laugh attack. He turned to Pete and looked him dead in the eyes. It was so vastly petrifying, that it wiped the smug smile right off Pete’s face. 

“Pete. Me and Brendon are no fucking. We’re not. I don’t know why he apparently smells like me, but you’re probably mista-“ Ryan caught a whiff of Brendon. 

“Brendon. Why do you smell like me?” His tone was icier than Frank and Gerard’s relationship. Brendon easily could’ve answered that he hadn’t time to shower that morning so he broke into Ryan’s room and put on his perfume, and he would’ve too due to the fact that he was very sure he saw lube in Ryan’s drawer and could exploit that easily. Only, he was saved just in time when he felt Ryan’s silky scarf in his pocket. He realized suddenly, that he could make things a whole lot worse. And Brendon was all about that.

“Here’s your scarf, Ry. You left it in my room.” Ryan leaned across the table to grab the scarf, and in turn smacked Brendon clean across the face. 

The table roared with laughter, making the rest of the irregularly noisy cafeteria seem like a library in comparison. Amidst the chaos, Spencer rained fear down upon the group with one simple sentence.

“C’mon guys! Day four: Prank War isn’t until tomorrow!” he laughed, gasping for air. He was, apparently, the only one who found this funny, aside from Pete. Even Dallon looked horrified. Suddenly, in unison, the whole group ceased laughing and groaned. Spencer, with tears in his eyes, only laughed harder. But by this point, even Pete was realizing what horrible timing it was.

“Anyone have any plans yet?” Frank asked, miserably. To everyone’s mild surprise and horror, most people morosely nodded. 

“This years’ gonna be a good one. I can tell.” Spencer rubbed his hands together evilly. Lindsey pulled out a long list with ideas scribbled all over it. It stretched nearly half way across the table, and was written so terribly, no one could read it aside from her. 

“There’s more on my homework. I’m conspiring with Joe and Andy this year.” She let out a small smile. She wasn’t going to get targeted this year, like she was last year. Last year had been rough on almost everyone. 

Dallon looked up suddenly. “Spencer- If we’re dating does this mean I get immunity from you?” he asked, looking hopeful. Spencer let out one long laugh that sounded more like a bark, before looking Dallon in the eye and shaking his head. 

“No one is safe,” he growled, smirking at Dallon. Everyone noticed his eyes flicker down to his boyfriend’s lips, which successfully made everyone uncomfortable. Brendon and Ryan shared the classic All Knowing Look, which Pete happily intercepted. He looked down at his salad and moaned. Instantly, the table lit up again and roared with laughter.

While Pete was cracking up, something hit his head. He turned and picked up a paper airplane that had clearly been the perpetrator, due to the bent tip of the craft. His name had been messily scrawled over the top of the airplane, in what was clearly Mikey’s handwriting. Pete looked up to try and see Mikey, as he was wondering why on Earth Mikey wasn’t sitting with them after his detention. There were no people at the table behind them, and the only other moving thing he saw was the swish of a skirt from some girl leaving the cafeteria. Pete shrugged and turned back to the still hysterical table. After carefully unfolding the paper, he read the letter which shouted at him for being a bitch, which he was, and then reminded him to meet Mikey after lunch, not that he’d forgotten. In Pete’s mind, it was next to impossible to forget about Mikey. 

~

The bell rang, concluding that day’s lunchtime adventure, and shrieking at the school to not be late for the next class. Everyone packed up and got out of there faster than the speed of light. Only Brendon and Ryan were left, which left Brendon with only one option. Throw food. Brendon picked up an orange peel and chucked it at Ryan. The one thing Brendon hadn’t expected, was Ryan to be ready with a counted attack. He scooped up a handful of seeds and threw them right back at Brendon. He luckily dodged, but slipped and fell right on his face. While Ryan walked away, laughing his ass off, Brendon was investigating a mystery he’d just stumbled upon. Underneath the recently deserted table was a piece of paper, that Brendon was sure had Pete’s name scribbled across the top. He picked it up and stood, reading it slowly. The handwriting wasn’t great, unless it was a boy who wrote it. But it seemed far too romantic for a boy, Brendon thought. He dismissed the fact that Pete may have had a lover, grabbed his things and ran to class. 

Brendon kept to himself about the letter, and decided to make nothing of it, until he had some solid proof. A total of ten minutes passed in class, many of which were taken up by his teacher drawling on about some essay they were going to have to write. Brendon had nearly fallen asleep, with his face in the direction of Pete, just in case, when Pete’s hand flew into the air. Brendon eyes flew open, but he kept his head down to not raise suspicion. 

“Yes Mister Wentz?” the teacher asked, sounding irritated that Pete was suddenly so keen to interrupt. 

“May I use the bathroom?” he asked, tapping his foot to persuade him. The teacher sighed sadly, but nodded and turned to continue addressing the rest of the class. Brendon kept his eyes glued to Pete’s smug smile, even after Pete had gone through the door and it had shut behind him. 

Pete sauntered through the hallway, holding up his bright orange bathroom pass to anyone who looked suspicious. He didn’t, however, have any excuses for why he was going to the third floor bathroom of the opposite side of the building. He pushed open the door, feeling Mikey’s phone in his pocket and humming loudly. 

“Mikey!” he sing-songed, chuckling. He looked around, and suddenly noticed Mikey. Pete took a step back and suddenly understood why Mikey hid his body and face when they spoke earlier. He also understood why Mikey got detention for dressing inappropriately. Mikey was wearing an assortment of things: four inch black pumps, along with fishnet tights that went most the way up his thighs, only to clasp with barely unseen panties, which were hardly covered up my a skin tight black skirt. This black skirt came nearly all the way up to his belly button which was covered by an almost see-through pale grey tee shirt, and leather jacket. The swoop of the neck of the tee was nothing in comparison to the spiky choker clamped around his neck. It either was made of real metal or was surprisingly well made. All of this was nothing compared to his face. Charcoal colored lipstick was pasted neatly across his thin lips, and matching black eyeliner and eyeshadow, not to mention the fact that Mikey was wearing new and oddly provocative glasses. Pete could see, now that Mikey’s beanie was off, that Mikey’s hair was straightened as usual, but pulled back into quiff, that most likely had copious amounts of hairspray in it. Pete felt more than a little winded, as though he’d been punched right in the stomach. 

“Y-You’re in drag?” Pete stuttered. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a question or a statement, all he knew is that he couldn’t say more. 

“Yeah,” Mikey agreed, nodding like Pete was a three year old.

“In a _skirt._ ” 

“I’m glad you noticed.”

“I-“

“Do you have my phone?” Mikey cut in, before Pete could say something he seriously regretted. 

It’s not like they hadn’t fucked before, and it’s not like they weren’t partially dating, but that was besides the point. Nothing had ever been announced from the two, in fact, the two said less than nothing to any of their collective friends. With Pete in the mix, the only person to really suspect was Brendon, and now Brendon was off their backs and they were free to make a mess. At least for that week. 

“I- Yeah. Here.” Pete handed Mikey his phone, trying not to stare to intensively at Mikey’s attire. He failed miserably at this task when he noticed Mikey’s nails, which were painted pretty badly, he admitted, but painted nonetheless. A deep shade of purple, too. Mikey checked his phone to make sure nothing too bad had been done to it, and when satisfied, he shoved his phone in the pocket of his skirt. Mikey leaned over the sink and washed his hands slowly, not thinking about the repercussions of this action.

“So, do you like it?” he asked, shaking the water from his hands, and reaching for a paper towel. 

“Fuck yeah I do,” Pete blurted out before he had the chance to stop himself. Mikey looked at Pete, a little taken aback and more than a little flattered. 

“Oh yeah?” Mikey asked, snorting a little. Pete, the king of being smooth, blushed profoundly. 

Pete nodded. Mikey snickered and took a step closer to Pete. And another, and another. Until Pete couldn’t move anywhere as he was pinned against a wall. 

“You got new glasses,” Pete said intelligently. Mikey smiled and leaned in so Pete could have a better view of his brown eyes.

“Glad you noticed that too,” Mikey chuckled. Pete pushed against Mikey’s chest a little, seeing what leeway he had. Mikey stood strong and pursed his dark lips. 

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Pete asked, suddenly realizing how funny this was. Mikey trying to act tough and controlling was almost as funny as a baby panda falling down a slide. Mikey smirked, and Pete actually couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by Mikey. 

Then, Mikey sunk to his knees without warning, and Pete clutched the wall for support. With the speed of a snail, slowly unzipped Pete’s jeans. If Pete even had the lung power at that moment to object and save it for another time, he wouldn’t’ve anyway. Mikey popped the button open and licked a slow stripe reaching from Pete’s belly button down to the waistband of his underwear. 

“You better not mess up my hair when I blow you,” Mikey growled.

“If you ever get to blowing me,” Pete shot back. Mikey dug his nails into Pete’s flesh and bit down on his waist band, before slowly dragging it down to his knees. Mikey floated his head back up, and slowly bit lightly on the inside of Pete’s thigh. He looked up at Pete for the go ahead. Pete buried his hand in Mikey’s hair, which did have the frightening amount of hairspray Pete imagined. 

“Happy early birthday,” Mikey snarled, before sliding his glossy black lips around Pete’s head. Pete leaned his head back against the porcelain tile walls and moaned. The further down Mikey went, the tighter Pete held his hair. Just as Pete thought he was going to cum, the bell rang. Mikey pulled back harshly, staring at the door, until realizing it wasn’t the bell. It was an alarm. 

“Fuck Pete I think that’s an earthquake alarm,” Mikey hissed. Pete shook his head. 

“It’s okay. We’ll be fine in here. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s a drill. I don’t feel any ground shaking.” Pete was more than a little preoccupied. 

“Do you want me to keep going?” Mikey asked suspiciously. Pete was about to say yes when he got a better idea. 

“No…” He trailed off. Then, he yanked Mikey up by his hair, and shoved him against the opposite wall, which was a little awkward as Pete’s pants were at his ankles. It seemed like a better plan in his head. But Pete was in-between Mikey’s legs in a second, and biting his neck in ways that made Mikey’s heart palpitate. Mikey kicked off his shoes, yanked down and kicked off his tights and panties, which were in fact lacy, and also had Pete’s eternal approval, and wrapped his legs around Pete. He didn’t even hear his phone clatter to the floor.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Mikey mumbled, as Pete ground down on his hips. Pete pulled back to look at Mikey, who was greasy, sweating, and red in the cheeks, which wasn’t from make up. 

“Happy belated birthday.”

 

~

Brendon, along with the rest of the class, tucked himself under his desk. As the teacher stood at the front of the room, taking roll from under his desk, Brendon’s mind wandered off to the other side of the building where Ryan was also under his desk. He would’ve gotten lost in worrying for his friend, if he hadn’t heard the teacher.

“Peter Wentz? Pete? Has anyone seen Pete?” he asked. Brendon tried to ignore the letter that was laying on the floor next to him. 

“Oh man, I gotta go find him. Alright. Stay here all of you. Damn, where did he go, again?” the teacher mumbled to himself. 

“Wait!” Brendon called out. The teacher looked at him expectantly. “I know where he is.” 

The two raced down the hallway, each hoping no one (the principal) say them breaking the rules she so sternly set. The two bolted up two flights of stairs, and down a long hallway until they reached the correct corridor, where Brendon knew Pete was lurking.

“Where do you two think you’re doing out of class?” Ms. Mann shouted. The two froze, shared a look, and slowly turned to face the seething ruler of the school.

“We’re missing a student. He went to the bathroom. We’re off to find him,” Brendon’s teacher explained. 

“And why would he be up here?” she asked, crossing her arms. Brendon’s teacher looked at him for a response.

“I saw a note he received during lunch. From a friend. Telling him to meet in the bathroom during this class.” Brendon wanted nothing to do with Ms. Mann after the previous day. She nodded.

“Well, let me escort you,” she said, whisking them down the hallway towards the bathroom. As they reached the end of the hallway, it was still eerily quiet for two boys who were supposedly meeting to discuss something. Ms. Mann waited a moment to open the door, but upon hearing nothing, the opened it.

Brendon nearly passed out. At first, the two didn’t even notice the three people standing in the doorway.

“Ahem,” Ms. Mann growled, looking in any direction other than in the bathroom. 

“Fuck-shit-oh my GOD!” 

There, in the bathroom up against the wall in-between the sinks, stood Pete and Mikey, with more of them showing than Brendon had ever wanted to see. 

“Brendon you can return to class now,” Ms. Mann commanded, completely monotone. Brendon nodded, hiding a smile as he saw the looks of horror on both of the other boys’ faces.

“My pleasure,” he giggled, speed walking back to class.

Before he turned to corner and bolted down the stairs, he heard the petty excuses both boys were already trying to give. And he didn’t feel bad at all.

~

Brendon thought or a moment, as his Skype loaded, whether he should tell the story, or let people find out on their own. He was, after all, limiting himself to the drama this week, and he was still out of luck on the prom date front, now more so than ever. But, since Pete had been his last dignified shot for prom, he decide it was for the best that at least Gerard should be informed that his brother okay. _More than okay, apparently,_ Brendon thought. 

As Brendon heard the familiar whooshing sound, he decided to begin his tale at the beginning. 

Pricky: gUYS FUCK OH MY GOD PETE IS MISSING

Pricky: HE LEFT TO USE THE BATHROOM AND HE E DIDN’T COME BBA CK MMMM

Get hard: BRENDON SCREW PETE WHERE IS MY BROTHER

Sunshine: IS HE ALSO MISSING

Get hard: YES

Spenis: BRENDON WHAT’S GOING ON

Pricky: I'M FOLLOWING MR. DINOZZO TO THE BATHROOM WHERE PETE SUPPOSEDLY WENTZ

Stoner McBoner: did you

Stoner McBoner: did you really

Stoner McBoner: wow okay

Brendon took a silent moment to be glad Ryan was okay. Okay enough to bark at him for his stupid puns. That was good enough, thought Brendon.

The Star: RYAN THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE OFFENDED WE HAVE A CRISIS ON OUR PLATE

Get Hard: MERCI PATRICK AND MERCI BEERDING 

The b00b: fuck YOU I DON'T SPEAK CROISSANT

Get Hard: BIKE MAN WHERE IS MY BROTHER

Pricky: oh. oh man

Get Hard: OS HE OKAY

Old Man Jonnie: ANSWER FFS

Fronk: BR EDNON

The b00b: FRANK STOP TALKING THIS ISN’T FOR YOU TO DISCUSS

Fronk: HE’S MY FRIEND DAMMIT WHERE IS HE

Pricky: yeah he’s okay. so is pete

Get Hard: WAS IT THAT HARD TO SAY BrEDNO

The Star: wait,,, Pete?

Stoner McBoner: what does that mean

Spenis: beefdong

Fronk: breakdance

Sunshine: breadman

Stoner McBoner: Brenny, Honey, 

Pricky: they’re just having a jolly old time 

Get Hard: doing what

Stoner McBoner: IM FUCKIN OUTTA HERE BYE

Pink Haired Spook: saME

Burgerface: K BYE U LAME-OS IM HERE TILL THE END

Spenis: iTS THE END OF THE WORLD AND WE KNOW IT

Get Hard: bathroom tell

Pricky: exactly! good guess

Get Hard: WHAT

The b00b: WHAT ARE THEY DOING IN THE BATHROOM

Fronk: RGUFISDBVKLNOUGSRBFLVXC 

Eggan: IM HERE IM HERE WHAT DID I MISS

Eggan: oh fuck not this

Sunshine: MEAGAN WHAT DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE DON'T

The Purest Word of God: i’m clutching my holy text 

Get Hard: BREOND TELL ME WHAT THEY’RE DOING IN THERE

Pricky: doing the do

Fronk: FUCK MY LIFELESS CORPSE

The b00b: WHERE’S BOB WHEN WE NEED HIM TO CALL BS

Sunshine: DOES THIS MEAN SAINT PATRICK AND PEEZY HERE HAVE NOT BEEN DOIN THE DO OR ARE THINGS REALLY REALLY BAD

The Star: WHAT NO

The Star: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST YOU PEOPLE PETE AND I ARE FRIENDS DON’T TALK TO ME OR MY FRIEND EVER AGAIN

Stoner McBoner: SEVERAL OF YOU NOW OWE ME MONEY LIFE IS GOOD

The rampage continued, until Brendon was on the floor, rolling around with laughter. Mr. Dinozzo was still nowhere to be found, and the rest of the class was on their phones, still hiding under their desks. Brendon was still thinking of ways he could make this worse, as it was one of him specialities. 

The Purest Word Of God: TOO MUCH SIN TOO MUCH SIN TOO MUCH SIN

Spenis: YOU LITERALLY HAVE A BOYFRIEND

The Purest Word of God: YOU ARE MY BOYFRIEND

Stoner McBoner: GEEBIE UR BABY BRO IS DOIN THE SUCC(tm) WITH A BOI HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THAT

Pink Haired Spook: NOT TO MENTION, YA KNOW, THAT THIS PERSON IS PETE WENTZ WHO CAN'T LOOK AT A GIRL ONLY ONCE

Get Hard: I MEAN,,, I ALREADY KNEW SO…

Fronk: HW TAT

Sunshine: GERARD,, IM 

The Purest Word of God: DEEP THROATING THE BOOK OF THE LORD CAN I GET AN AMEN

Pricky: THERE WAS DAMN WELL MORE THAN THE SUCCEROO(tm) THERE WERE WALLS INVOLVED

Pricky: ALSO IM NEVER USING THOSE SINKS EVER AGAIN

Stoner McBoner: IM SORRY BUT CAN WE FOCUS ON THE FACT GERARD KNEW MIKEY AND PETE WERE DOING THE DO AND FOR HOW LONG 

Stoner McBoner: if ya know what i mean (;

Get Hard: honestly? i’m feeling a little attacked by that, Ryan

Fronk: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR JOKES, GERARD

Get Hard: YEAH OKAY BUT WHO FUCKIGN SAID YOU CAN SPEAK TO ME

And yet, moments later,

This message has been removed. 

Spenis: oh. oh man

Old Man Jonnie: DID NO ONE THINK ABOUT MEAGAN

Pink Haired Spook: OH FUCK

The b00b: FUCK OH MY GOD MEAGAN

The b00b: SHE'S IN MY CLASS AND SHE LOOKS LIKE- NOPE SHIT BOI SHE’S FUCKING OUTTA HERE(tm)

Hayl Satan: SORRY I NEEDED A MINUTE TO PROCESS THIS BUT NOW IM #READYTOBEPETTY LETS GO

The Purest Word of God: OKAY I KNOW I SHOULDN’T GET CAUGHT UP IN THIS SIN BUT,, GERARD IF YOU KNEW A BOUT THE SEXII TIMEZ,, WHY DIDN’T U SAY ANYTHING??

Eggan: GERARD SAY NOTHING FOR THE SAKE OF THE DEAL

Brendon very happily sat back and watched the destruction he’d caused escalate. He rocked himself in his unnaturally bouncy plastic chair and hummed a tune he’d forever associate with this happy, happy day. However, a floor down and seated in some less bouncy chairs, were two very unhappy boys. 

Pete and Mikey sat, waited, griped, and sat some more, all in those horrid chairs while being given nasty looks from secretary. Ms. Mann had dropped them off there after they’d been given time to clean up and put their clothes back on. It hadn’t been very long, but from the vibrations Pete’s phone was giving off from his pocket, it was clear Brendon hadn’t wasted any time. 

“Brendon told.”

“How do you know that?” Mikey asked, crossing his arms and not daring even look Pete’s direction. 

“My Skype is going insane.”

“Oh fantastic!” Mikey hissed, keeping his voice down. After a solid moment of silence between the two, Mikey sighed and pinched his brow.

“I cannot believe I didn’t think to lock the door.”

“Yeah, nice job on that one,” Pete hissed back, tapping his fingers on the arms of the chair as he got more agitated. 

“I didn’t think we were going to bang!” Mikey shouted. The secretary shushed them louder than necessary, and after she had finished murdering the two with her eyes, she crossed herself before returning to her work. 

“I should’ve worn a cross,” Mikey sniggered. Pete elbowed him firmly in the rib.

“You better be glad you didn’t.” 

There was angry silence between them for a few moments, and just as things began to feel back to normal for the secretary, Mikey couldn’t hold his tongue.

“This is all your fault,” Mikey sighed.

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO WORE DRAG!” Pete bellowed right back. The secretary, who raided herself on having a close relationship with God, began to question exactly how many years in hell you received for murder. 

~

 

Ms. Mann swaggered down the hallway and into the main office slower than a dead snail. She wasn’t really in the mood to deal with these two incredibly stupid teens at that moment, but she didn’t want to go to the staff meeting regarding future drills either. She weighed her options for a moment, while watching the anxious boys from twenty feet away, until she decided shouting at some young people would prepare her for her meeting she would have to reschedule. 

She nodded to her secretary as she passed by the two boys, and walked into her office without so much as looking their way. Pete and Mikey reached slouched back in their chairs, knowing Ms. Mann was trying to intimidate them. And she was doing a fantastic job. 

After what felt like hours for the two boys, and a mere few minutes to Ms. Mann, she unlocked her door, and beckoned the boys inside with her finger. Mikey smoothed out his skirt before standing up slowly, wobbling around in his heels for a moment, and following a sulking Pete into her office. Wind, or the mystical religion related mind powers of the secretary, slammed the door on their heels, only furthering their worry. Ms. Mann pulled up two chairs to her desk, and took her seat on the other side. There was already a lined piece of paper on her desk, which she looked over for a moment. The two guilty looking boys watched her pick up a pen and begin to write. She scribbled down various things which neither Pete nor Mikey could read upside-down, until she had a complete page. She checked her work, while nodding, and then flipped the paper around so her company could read it. 

“Pick three,” she said, as she dialed her secretary’s number. “Please call both these boys’ parents and get them here. Make sure they’re aware it’s urgent.” Ms. Mann didn’t look as much angry as she did blood thirsty, which made the air in the room feel very, very cold.

As Pete and Mikey read over the items on the list, it became apparent all were possible punishments for their actions, but much to their relief, none had anything to do with religion.

“I’m sure if neither of you can find something suitable, our office lady will have many suggestions for you two.” The look in Ms. Manns’ eyes floated down to her lips and formed a sadistic smirk. The she took a long sigh and sat back in her spinny chair. Mikey elbowed Pete to look up, as they both knew the lecture was coming. Before Ms. Mann’s breath even left her mouth, both boys were too far gone to even care. 

~

Naturally, when both sets of painters arrived, looking terrified and worried beyond capacity, Ms. Mann also sat them down in her office, and explained their antics in the worst possible way. Again, she never brought up religion, which both boys were grateful for, not that they could express that in any way, as they had been exiled from the room and were back in the hall. 

Pete looked over the paper again, in horror. The suggestions were just as awful as Pete had imagined, but the fact that he had to pick three along with serving detention for the rest of the semester, and not getting to go to prom, was world ending. Despite this, Mikey actually looked quite smug. Pete tried his best not to notice this, but it was pretty difficult as Mikey kept inhaling his laughs every few minutes. 

“Why are you so cocky?” Pete hissed, keeping his voice low. Mikey looked at him with his large brown eyes mocking him.

“Why are you so frustrated?” Mikey fired back. Pete glared at him, which only adding to Mikey’s hysteria. Pete elbowed him in ribs, which only succeeded in making Mikey double over, cracking up.

“Seriously?! What’s so funny?” Pete whisper shouted at him. Through teary eyes, Mikey looked up at him with a grin so evil, it rivaled Brendon. 

“Let's just say I'm a little more _relieved_ than you. If you catch my drift.”

"FUCK YOU MIKEY!"

~

Brendon decided, that no matter what else happened that day, his favorite part of the day was watching Pete scuffle into class, escorted by an angry Ms. Mann, grab his bag, and scuffle back out. That nearly caused a riot from the chaos that it caused. Between the Skype calls that weren’t supposed to be happening, to the people crossing themselves and demanding to go home, to just those who were on the floor rolling around with laughter without reason, it was too much. After fifteen minutes of trying his best, Mr. Dinozzo gave up. By the time the bell rang, the entire school knew. 

Gerard raced through the halls, using back routes no one ever took, just for the sole purpose of evading a wandering Frank. He found himself in the back of the school, near the library and the last of the lockers. He was about to turn a corner when he heard familiar voices, and flung himself out of sight out of habit. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he realized it was only Mikey speaking. And Pete. This interested him.

“I don’t know how I managed to escape them, but I’m glad I did.” Mikey’s voice was quiet and apprehensive. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Pete sighed sadly.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted-“

“Okay, so,” Pete interrupted. “We just fucked in the bathroom and now you want to suggest something together? Seriously? Not to mention the fact you gave me a shiner.” Mikey scoffed at him. Gerard bit his tongue to keep from laughing, as he could practically hear Mikey rolling his eyes. 

“I wanna gonna ask you if you wanted me to sneak out tonight so we can play video games and blow each other.” Gerard nearly choked. His little brother? Mikey was more grown up than he thought. 

Pete glared at Mikey and crossed his arms.

“Alright fine. I’ll just blow you,” Mikey amended himself. 

Pete clicked his tongue. “Sounds like a plan!”

Gerard stifled his laughter by remembering what that conversation entailed and gagged a little. He didn’t need to know what Mikey got up to. The chatter from down the other halls began to fade, and Gerard was reminded that he would be late for class if he didn’t hurry. He turned on his heel, only to be face to face with Frank. 

“Shit sorry I- oh,” Gerard grumbled. Frank’s smile disappeared. 

“Gerard- look. I’m sorry I shouted but-“

“Frank this really isn’t the time. If there even is one.” And Gerard marched off, holding back the tears he felt oh so guilty for shedding. 

He bolted off down the hallway, leaving Frank in the dust and heading straight for the only place he could cry: The library. But tears were already leaking down his face, and if anyone saw him, it’d be obvious what a failure he was. He unzipped his purse, put on his sunglasses, and continued on his way. The class that he was supposed to be attending completely disintegrated from his brain, and suddenly all he could feel was an overwhelming feeling of regret.

He scrambled through the library, just trying to outrun his mess of a life. Or really, his mess of an ex-boyfriend. He was so busy focusing on his backpack and purse he regretted bringing in the first place, he slammed right into a person. Gerard had momentarily forgotten other people existed. He instantly looked up and mumbled some form of an apology. He was caught off guard by the stunning and familiar blue eyes that greeted him.

“Oh. Hi Jenna,” he grumbled, making his way past her silently. He didn’t want this “traitor” in his midst, he thought angrily. First Frank had tried to talk to him, and now Jenna was there. He was gonna need some more of Brendon’s pot for this mess. 

“Gerard wait,” she sighed unhappily. Gerard, being the nice person he considered himself to be, spun around, careful not to have a repeat of earlier. He did not smile at her, nor did she smile at him. She ran a hand through her oddly perfect blonde hair, and put her other hand on his shoulder. He glared at her through his sunglasses.

“Gerard I thought you should know from me that Breezy didn’t sleep with Frank. I know her. I’m close with her. She came to me, crying, when she heard what happened. And yeah, Frank slept with Jamia, but that was way before you two even started dating. Mikey, or whoever else told you, got it wrong.” Gerard felt tears starting to pour again. He shrugged her hand off his shoulder.

“Absolute bullshit. Mikey wouldn’t do that. He’s not a liar,” he spat. Jenna sighed and looked him in the eye.

“Then how come you’re crying, Gerard? Do you want to believe me? Or are you just being stubborn?” she hissed back at him. Gerard didn’t reply. He stood there, perfectly still, and held his breath. Jenna began to look almost sympathetic. Slowly, she reached up and pulled off his sunglasses. He had big black rings around his eyes, which he had tried to wipe away, and failed. She sighed and shoved his sunglasses his little purse. She dug into her backpack for a second and pulled out a bag of wipes. She gently wiped one under his eyes. When she was done, she tossed it in the trash can.

“Thanks,” he whispered, his voice sounding tinier than he had hoped. 

“Just ask Jamia. Hell, you could even ask Meagan. She’ll tell you when it all happened. And then, you’ll come back to me and thank me.” Jenna smiled sweetly. 

“Also, you have a hole in your tights. If you wanna wear drag, you better at least try a little harder, Gerard. Pull that skirt up a little higher and see what happens,” she laughed and she twirled away. He watched her, rooted to the spot, as she walked out of the library and turned the corner. Gerard didn’t know what he had expected from her, but this was definitely not it. 

~

Gerard sat on the front of his car, criss-cross applesauce. He didn’t care if anyone looked up his skirt anymore. Not that that would matter, as he was perfectly alone, which was just the way he wanted it. He fiddled with the keys on his phone and ignored all incoming calls, as he worked up a plan. He actually had multiple plans going in his head, but this one took priority at the moment. He sniffled, wiped his eyes again, and slid off the hood of the car. He took one last look at the school he was intently loathing at that moment, stepped into his car, and dove away.

~

 

Meanwhile, the news of Gerard’s absence was just beginning to hit the loud speakers. The loudspeakers being Skype.

The Star: gerARD IS CUTTING CLASS

Sunshine: WHAT

The b00b: MIKEY WHERE IS HE

Candyman: FUCK ALL OF YOU IM NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY PHONE BUT @BOOBWOMAN I DON'T KNOW I EXPECTED HIM TO BE IN CLASS

Spenis: I hate to even ask this, but,,,, @frank

Tyler: bro

Pink Haired Spook: bruh bro

Stoner McBoner: see u in hell spencer

Fronk: how should i know?

The b00b: idk but you should CARE

Fronk: I DONT FUCKING KNOW WHERE HE IS! I CALLED HIM LIKE FIVE TIMES FIGURE IT OUT YOUR DAMN SELVES

Sunshine: shit son

Spenis: cry at my funeral

The Purest Word Of God: brings a tear to my royal eyes

Brendon rolled his eyes impatiently. He still insisted on not being part of this whole scheme, and clicked off his phone for a split second. The chat actually fell silent for a couple seconds, which Brendon was ever so thankful for. His teacher was getting suspicious. She turned back to the board, just as his phone buzzed. 

Private message from Get Hard:

Get Hard: Can you fake sick or something? I’m at your house. Please come home.

Pricky: sure

He resisted the urge to say something about his wife and kids, but figured this was not the time. Brendon then began his master plan he had played out many years before if he ever got into a situation. He held his breath, until he was sure his face was quite red, and coughed a few times, loud enough for the teacher to hear. He slowly added in sniffling, until the amount of noise he was making was unbearable. 

“Brendon are you feeling quite alright? Perhaps you should go to the office,” his teacher said, looking genuinely concerned. 

“Yeah,” Brendon said in the best congested voice he’d ever mustered. The teacher nodded to him, and he was out of class in a heartbeat. His phone was very nearly a vibrator from how insanely quickly he was getting messages. 

As his Skype loaded, he looked in classroom windows and made faces at his friends. He even managed eye contact with Spencer, who then immediately pulled out his phone and began to text.

He checked his Skype, and sure enough, there was Spencer, making a fuss.

Spenis: BrendON LEFT CLASS GEE IS AT BRENDON’S HOUSE

Pink Haired Spook: GERDON

The Star: #GERDON CONFIRMED

The b00b: GERDON NO

Fronk: BUT THEY’RE BOTH BOTTOMS.. HOW

Stoner McBoner: FR A KN 

Old Man Jonnie: HOW WOULD YOU EVEN KNOW THAT

Old Man Jonnie: NEVERMIND PLEASE DON’T ANSWER THAT

Spenis: FRAN OH MY GOD

Stoner McBoner: SCOOBY DOOBY DO IT’S FUCKING TRUE,, WHAT WILL THEY DO

The Star: RY YOU’RE N OT HE LP ING

Fronk: ‘Fran’ really wow k

The Purest Word Of God: was that a pun

Brendon smiled to himself as he trotted out of school, not even bothering to stop by the office. His teacher would cover for him, or so he hoped. He reached his house and did indeed she Mikey’s car out front, without the knowledge if Mikey too was in his house. That seemed odd to him, as Mikey just got the ass whooping of a lifetime, but Brendon was optimistic. He unlocked the door, to find his no one downstairs, which left only his room to be examined for any possible Gerards. 

He knocked politely on his own door, before entering and seeing a very sad looking Gee on the floor in front of his bed. Brendon rushed over to him, and, like a good friend would, wrapped his arms around Gee.

“Why don’t you ever sit on my bed?” Brendon chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Gerard sniffled, and tried to smile, which didn’t work out. Brendon pulled back, and resided to keeping an arm around Gee’s shoulder while he cried. 

“What happened, Gee?” Brendon anxiously asked. 

Gerard sniffled. “Well my p-plan didn’t exactly work. It w-went well for the first part of the d-day, but then he t-tried to talk to me, and I flipped out and was r-really m-mean to him, and then j-just ran away. Then fucking Jenna talked to me and told me I was w-wrong and she was really conv-vincing and now it just f-feels like I f-fucked everything u-up,” he cried. Brendon rubbed Gerard’s shoulders while he pondered over what had happened. 

“Hey… Do you want me to talk to anyone? I will, if you want.” 

“But you don’t want to get involved,” Gerard sniffed. 

Brendon nodded. “I know. But this has given me… A small change of heart, maybe.” Brendon didn’t have any change of heart. He just wanted to make Gee stop crying. When other people cried, Brendon cried, and Brendon really didn’t want to cry. 

“N-no… I have to do it. I need to own up to the fact that I possibly made a huge fucking mistake. Thanks anyway, thought.” Gerard leaned back against the side of the bed and ran a hand through his greasy hair. The two sat in silence for a second, Brendon trying not to look confused.

Finally, after giving up on his curiosity restraint, Brendon asked, “Is that Mikey’s car?” Gerard snorted, and nodded at his lap.

“Mikey went home with our parents,” Gerard shuddered. “So I took the car. He leaves the keys in there, you know. It’s a bad idea. Someone could steal it.”

“Someone like you,” Brendon laughed.

“That’s what I said!” Gerard cracked up. It felt nice to have someone to laugh with again, Brendon thought. But he soon remembered that he did have something to talk to. Someone to laugh with. He’d just been so wrapped around himself that he’d forgotten. He worked up a plan to fix that as soon as possible. Meaning as soon as school let out.

“Hey Gee? I don’t mean to be rude, but I have someone coming over and uhh…”   
Gerard raised his eyebrows. “Is it Ryan?” 

“Maybe, why?” Brendon felt a little taken aback. Gerard smirked and stood up.

“Well if it’s Ryan then I’ll be on my way. That’s not something I want to be part of,” Gerard teased.

“Me and Ryan are not fucking! I could be banging Dallon for all you know!” Brendon shouted. 

“Dal’s dating Spencer.”

“Oh yeah. Huh.” Brendon fell silent for a moment. “But me and Ryan aren’t doing anything!”

“Sure. Whatever you say,” Gerard giggled, and hopped out the window. Brendon gawked at him, narrowing his eyes. 

“Why can’t anyone just use the door?” Brendon shouted, exasperated. 

~

Gerard’s house was dead fucking silent, despite the fact he knew everyone else was home. His father was most likely in his study, rubbing his temples raw. His mother out shopping, and Mikey was probably in his room sulking. Gerard wandered into the kitchen aimlessly, feeling boredom settling in. 

His mother flew out of nowhere and jumped in front of him, talking before Gerard could even hear what she was saying.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down. Start over,” he said.

“Gerard. Please talk to your brother. He won’t talk to me or your father. We’re not going to shout at him we’re-“

“You’re not?” Gerard raised his eyebrows suspiciously.

“Okay, maybe a little. But please. He’ll only listen to you. And hey- If you do this, I won’t ask any questions as to why you’re home so early,” she glared. “Or have my purse.”

Gerard bolted up the stairs, and knocked on Mikey’s door before his mother noticed how much of her makeup was on his face. There was a loud, angry grunt from inside the room. 

“Mikey,” Gerard hissed. “Are you alone in there or should I come back later?” Mikey groaned, there were footsteps, and then the door opened. There stood a very pissed off and soggy Mikey. Gerard sighed at his little brother and stepped in. 

“Congrats, by the way. I’ll miss you at prom,” Gerard teased. Mikey sent him a death glare from behind his fogged up glasses. 

“Oh! And Mikey, quick question, why? Why the bathroom? Why today? Why-“

“Yeah okay I get it! It was a dumb ass move, I know.”

Gerard snorted intensely loudly. “It was more than a dumb ass move, Mikes.” There was silence for a moment. 

“Hey,” Gerard sighed. “Are you at least still going to prom?” 

Now it was Mikey’s turn to snort. “Seriously?”

“Okay, okay, stupid question. Sorry about that,” Gerard sighed and looked at his tired little brother sadly. Mikey noticed and crossed his arms defensively. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything,” Gerard stifled his laughter. 

“You didn't have to,” Mikey grumbled walking back into the depths of his room. It was true what Mikey said; Gerard need not say anything for his message to become clear. The two nearly had cryptophasia from being so close over the years. 

Mikey sat on his bed and groaned as Gerard too sat down on the bed, the door swinging shut naturally. However, cryptophasia took hold and Mikey began to understand that Gerard wasn’t exactly mocking him, but more or less pitying him. Mikey wasn’t sure whether that was better or worse, _but it had to be an improvement,_ he thought. He looked sorely over at his tv in the corner which had been unplugged and dismantled for his grounding, the bitterness very nearly radiating off of him. Gerard felt a stab of guilt when his phone dinged so loudly, it was like a gun went off. Mikey’s eyes darted to the phone in Gerard’s pocket, and fixated on it until Gerard thought he would burn a hole in his jeans from his staring. 

“What did you think was gonna happen, Mikey? Pete has literally zero self control,” Gerard asked, looking at him pitifully. Mikey made some angry spluttering noises.

“I thought I was gonna get my phone back!”

“Well did you?”

**“CLEARLY NOT!”** Gerard smiled at his brother who was so very, very tired.

“Hey,” he hummed. “Maybe… if you promise never to… Damn I dunno… Promise never to fuck or get fucked by anyone during school ever again and I’ll go grab your phone from downstairs.” Mikey smiled minutely at his brother and nodded with his head down, in a poor attempt to hide his blush. 

“I promise,” Mikey’s voice cracked, but he was smiling. Gerard hugged his brother before bolting out of the room. Mikey sat in chaotic silence for a solid five minutes before Gerard sailed through the doorway and back into the sad cave. There was a mischievous look on Gee’s face as he looked up, only to hold out Mikey’s phone in the palm of his hand. 

Mikey snatched the phone and began to read his mixed texts, but still not daring to go on Skype. _That pleasure was reserved for later,_ Mikey thought sarcastically. 

“Pete texted you a lot. I didn’t read them, I just saw them when the screen turned on,” Gerard mumbled. Mikey smiled through the glare he sent his brother.

“I’ll leave you to your fun. You better not snitch on me or I’ll call you Harry Potter for a year,” Gerard threatened. Mikey chuckled as Gerard backed out of the room ominously. 

As it turned out, most of Pete’s ridiculous texts were just making sure Mikey was okay and that they were still on for later, and Mikey made it intensely clear that they were in fact still on for later, in spine tingling detail. But soon enough, Mikey could no longer ignore the call of his Skype icon and clicked on the sky blue app of nightmares. 

Pete was alone in his house, and he figured this would be the only time he was left alone until the day he died. He had been texting Mikey and begging for him to not go on Skype, and stick it out with him, but Mikey finally caved. He had turned off is Skype notifications Monday afternoon, in hopes of ignoring everything like Brendon, but that had clearly not worked. So he too clicked on the app and waited for the shit show. 

When the app finally God damn loaded, he was biting his nails and scrunching his toes so hard he thought he might break them. He scrolled to the top of the messages, and got started. He read everything, from Brendon first retelling the story that Pete was sure was bullshit, all the way to the live chat, which was currently fixated on how this affected Meagan, a topic Pete would really rather not discuss. Nonetheless, his friends rarely listened to him anyway. 

Stoner McBoner: MEAGAN PLE A S E I KNOW WE’RE NOT THE CLOSEST BUT PL E AS E WE KNOW YOU’RE THERE WE JUST WANT TO T A L K

Sunshine: ME A G A N

Spenis: PETE IS ONLINE PETE IS ONLINE I REPEAT PETE IS ONLINE 

Spenis: i re-pete

Pink haired spook: i want you to never say that ever again

Eggan: guys!! drop! it!

The Star: SHE SPEAKS!

Stoner McBoner: conceal dont feel

The Star: I WASN’T FUCKING REFERENCING SHAMELESS FUCKINK C H I L L OH MY G O D 

Burgerface: dont let them knoooooo

Spenis: i tHINK YOU GUYS ARE LOSING ATTENTION TO WHAT IS IMPORTANT

Spenis: THAT SENTENCE MADE NO SENSE BUT HW TA EVER 

Memelord 1.0: meagan you can tell them

Pricky: TELL US WHAT

Sunshine: WELL NOW THEY KNOW

Stoner McBoner: I CAN’T FUCKING BELLIE VE THIS CHA T THIS ISN’T FUCKING DR. PHIL

Candyman: MEGAN I THINK THE FUCK NOT

Meagan stopped typing instantly. She didn’t want to upset either of her partners in crime, and now she was just plain stuck. Mikey let out a sigh of relief, while Pete let out a sigh of frustration from his boyfriend. 

Pete delved into the private chat in desperation. He knew Mikey wouldn’t like this, and he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be in the spotlight anymore.

Memelord 1.0: tell them. if Mikey gets mad, fuck him. my friends deserve to know how awesome you are, also the quicker you tell them, the quicker this will blow over.

Eggan: 1. i dont want to fuck mikey

Eggan: 2. they already know im awesome

Memelord 1.0: ffs

Eggan: 3. this isn’t blowing over anytime, sweetheart. the only thing blowing is you and mikey. and maybe ryan and brendon.

Eggan: and spencer and dallon of dallon isn’t too busy memorizing the bible

Eggan: and tyler and josh obviously. That was a curveball (;

Memelord 1.0: you done yet?

Eggan: overdone like a nice hunk of meat

Eggan: oooh ive bet you’ve got meat on your mind (;

Memelord 1.0: oh my god

Pete rolled his eyes and returned to the group chat, which was still a complete disaster. Brendon had gotten bored of running his mouth, and had disappeared basically, known to all from his ‘Away’ icon. That was one less thing to worry about at that moment for Pete, and he was sure keen on that.

Spenis: YO pete please tell us we’re thirsty people

The Purest Word of God: why does yo always capitalize on your phone

Stoner McBoner: I THINK WE HAVE MORE PRESSING MATTERS MY FRIENDS

Pete looked away for a split second, to listen in on the driveway. After deciding it was only a car passing by, he looked back to the chat which had been silenced by a long message from Meagan.

 

Eggan: so pete came to me a while ago asking me a favor and i was like ‘okay’ so he told me he’d been blowing mikey for a while hey guess what i wasn’t surprised like no shit pete any way and then Y’all(tm) were up in his Business(t-the fuck-m) and he needed a distraction so he thought maybe…….. **maybe** ……… he could get away with dating me. so then this happened as a cover up, even tho pete and mikey were still doing the do,, ya know,,, drawing away suspicion. good move there old peezy btw,, well played. mikey was like ‘no. let em mind their own business’ and pete was like ‘no’ but pete won idk why i think it’s cause he tops don’t ask me how i know because i won’t answer anyway and then it was decided and then me and pete dated for a while? i guess??? idk it was fun,,, thanks for the memories dudes

Pete groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Mikey was gonna kill him. 

The Star: LET IT GOOOO

Spenis: GOD BLESS YOU MEAGAN

Spenis: GOD BLESS

Fronk: JEUS SFUC K MEAGAN YOU A RE A TE RRIBLE PERSON AND AN AMA Z I NG FRIEND OKA Y W O W JUST., WO W

Candyman has left the chat.

Stoner McBoner: On 2/24/16, at 3:00 PM, Candyman wrote:  
> MEGAN I THINK THE FUCK NOT

The Purest Word Of God: MEAGAN DOES THIS MEAN YO AND PEEZY NEVR,, YA KNOW,, DID THE DO????

Pink Haired Spook: fondue?

Eggan: ew no! he’s my best friend that's horrible!

The Star: BUT

Candyman has been added to the chat.

Candyman: MEAGAN I SAID FUCKIGN TRAP SHU T

Eggan: (: good (: luck (:

Stoner McBoner: MIKEY SHH LET US BATHE IN THIS

Fronk: GO DO THE SUCC WITH PETE AND LET US BE

The b00b: FOR ONCE I AGREE WITH FRANK OKAY MIKEY JUST,,, SHH

All the way on the other side of the school, just about as far away from Pete’s house as you could get and still go to school with him, Dallon sat, laughing his ass off. His parents weren’t far away, so he kept his hand clamped over his mouth as he wheezed. His homework was on the floor, where he had shoved it when the drama first began, and it had been long forgotten, which was a mistake Dallon rarely made. He had big plans in life, and not doing his homework wouldn’t get him there, but at that moment, Pete and Mikey were more important.

His screen suddenly froze up, as he received a FaceTime from Brendon. Dallon plugged his headphones in, still chuckling, and accepted the call. Brendon’s cheeks were pink from laughing, but his expression was far from jovial.

“What’s got your pants in a twist?” Dallon asked, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. Brendon sighed, pinched his brow, and went for it. 

“I was gonna ask Pete to prom but now he’s not going for a wide variety of reasons.” Dallon was more shocked than he thought possible. His reaction to this was to burst out laughing again, which infuriated Brendon to no end.

“It’s okay,” he sighed. “I’ll find someone else. But seriously Dallon, help me. Please.” Dallon sighed, his cheeks hurting from smiling and his face flushed.

“Hm. Take Ryan.” Dallon knew Brendon would slap him given the chance, and made a mental note to lock all the doors before he went to sleep that night or he would surely be woken very unpleasantly. 

“What? No, I-“ 

“C’mon why not? You two were best friends for so long!” Dallon interrupted. 

“I don’t-“ There was a knock at Dallon’s door. 

“Sorry, gotta go. Make sure you bring him flowers!” Dallon winked, and hung up, leaving a speechless and bewildered Brendon on the other side of the line.

At the end of a long study session, where Brendon was sure he’d most likely written Ryan’s name instead of his own at least twice, Brendon looked to his phone. It sat there, it’s dark screen asleep, begging for Brendon to check it. He sighed, slid his books onto the floor, and collapsed next to them. A sliver of doubt was beginning to form in his head that he may in fact go to prom alone, which was quite literally his worst nightmare. Suddenly he thought back to those helpful words, which were so kindly given to him by a voice Brendon couldn’t quite remember.

“At the very least, Frank or Gerard will go with you.”

Brendon felt cheated and nauseated, but at least he had a plan. A disgusting, low, low plan. And he decided, before he passed out on that very floor, that this was all Dallons fault.


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dreaded Prank war ensues and not a whole lot of people make it through the day. It's thousand words of pure chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I was working on a Christmas thing that ate up all of my time. Chapter five will hopefully be up soon, but I can't promise that. Let me know if you enjoyed this!

Gerard sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. He would’ve much rather been staring at the stars, and thinking about some great truth he was to discover, but he was not. He was staring at his dirty carpet, in the dead of night. His parents, along with a wallowing Mikey were asleep in their respective rooms, most likely drowning the time away that Gerard just couldn’t manage to slip though. There was a pen in his hand, so while he thought about all the mistakes he’d ever made, he could write them down in poems he would later tack to the underside of his desk. Previously, he’d had to move his poem collective frequently, because he would return from school to see Frank sitting in his room, post-its scattered everywhere, and Frank deep in thought as he read them. 

A solemn Gerard smiled at this memory, before laying back on his bed and pulling his covers up over his shaking body, despite the relative warmth of the room. He started at his clock, which he had unplugged hours ago, to keep him from worrying over the time. His teeth clattered, and his eyes watered, but neither were from any misconception in temperature. He knew what had happened, and now he had to face the consequences. 

His mind drifted back to his last conversation at school the previous day, where Jenna had talked more sense into him than he’d gotten from all of his teachers combined over the course of the week. His phone now read it was officially Thursday, and it apparently had been for a few hours. He groaned, and checked his Skype, which was beyond dead. He pulled on a smile, to get himself into the mood to joke around, but nothing even remotely funny came to mind. He let out a shaky breath as he closed the application, and hovered his finger over his Messages icon. He knew it would be bad to check, because he would only feel worse, but his regretfulness outweighed his sanity. 

Much to his surprise, Frank was apparently typing something, and Gerard would’ve given a limb to know what. He stared at the little animation on the corner of his screen, refusing to blink until he teared up. And suddenly, tears came pouring out and they had nothing to do with staring contests with his phone. 

Gerard fell asleep around four in the morning, still staring at the little icon texting in the corner of his screen. 

~

Beep! Beep! Beep! 

Dallon sat bolt upright, holding a pencil threateningly. Only, there was no one in his room, and the pencil was quite damp from drool, and Dallon was pretty sure it would’ve hurt about as much as a wet sock. But that young man had a very, very good reason to be afraid. As of roughly three months ago, he had started crushing on, and in turn dating, the most notorious prankster at his high school. The previous morning, Dallon didn’t think twice about it, but now, it seemed like a mistake with a capital M. 

Spencer had been very clear in insinuating that Dallon, no matter what he did, would never, ever be free of the torment of the infamous prank war that the entire school knew the gist of. All, except for the freshmen, who were about to receive hell on Earth. 

Dallon smiled as he thought about the torment he would inflict upon the newcomers, and cringe as he thought back to his first year, where his locker had been filled with fish puree. To that day, he still wasn’t sure how exactly whoever did managed to keep the liquid form leaking out the holes, or just exactly who did it in the first place. Dallon would give that kid hell if he knew who it had been.

He pulled on clean clothes, picked up the homework he had finished at eleven o’clock, and walked down the stairs for some food. However, before he could even sit down for a proper meal, his phone buzzed. He bit into a piece of toast, while he read the most astonishing text he’d gotten in a long time. Brendon was out front, waiting for him, and early. Dallon nearly choked on his food, but before any of his siblings could say anything, he picked up his bags and bolted for the door, toast still hanging out of his mouth. 

He made a mad dash for the car, and leapt into the passenger side door, smashing his backpack onto the dashboard. 

“What the fuck happened? Did you and Ryan finally-“

“Dallon I don’t know where you were going with that, and quite frankly, I really don’t want to know,” Brendon cut in, and sighed. “Anyway, I came here early because I wanted to be the first to know who got dished out what punishment for the fiasco yesterday.”

“Even if you’re not going to share?” Dallon questioned, munching on his piece of toast.

“Even if I’m not going to share,” Brendon replied, pulling onto the road. Dallon chuckled, and leaned back into his seat. At least he had a ride to school.

“You know Spencer’s gonna kill you, right?” Brendon asked, once Dallon seemed to have settled. This _unsettled_ Dallon.

“Yeah. I read the terms and conditions, sadly. Good thing I brought this!” Dallon smiled, and pulled out a gigantic tube of superglue, whilst a pack of zip-ties fell out in the process. Brendon shook his head, wondering if he’d ever see either of his friends alive ever again. Dalton giggled, shoving the glue and zip ties back in his black bag of secrecy, which he clipped to his back pack.

“This is gonna be fun,” he sighed. 

Even in spite of the early hour, the parking lot had a few wary travelers awaiting the arrival of Dallon, the make-shift drama king for the week. What they had not expected, was Brendon to be riding along with him. This made for some very uncomfortable conversations regarding the punishments that were given. Neither Dallon nor Brendon knew of the penalties that Pete and Mikey had received, which led for half an hour of awkward waiting around in the chilling morning air. 

“Do you know if he’s even coming to school?” Patrick asked, rubbing his gloved hands together. 

“If I knew, sir, I would’ve told you. But alas…” Dallon sighed in his best fake pretentious accent. Brendon hoped it was fake. More and more cars pulled up, roaming around for parking spots and trying not to hit any of the lingering high schoolers. When all hope seemed lost for any information, Gerard walked over, in a puffy jacket, skinny jeans, and a crop top. He wore big black puffy Ugg boots and looked perfectly fine that morning, until he saw the gaggle of friends waiting for him. 

“Oh no…” Gerard sighed. He was instantly surrounded, even more so than Dallon had been, until Patrick dragged him aside for a “talk”. Dallon looked at his watch and nudged Brendon, who seemed suddenly ripped out of a trance.

“We should start heading towards the building. Those fools will all be late,” Dallon intwined their arms and began to drag Brendon to the main building. Brendon was so deprived of drama, it was taking a toll on his ability to focus. So much in fact, that he totally ignored the fact that Dallon had un-sarcastically used the term ‘fool’ in a sentence. 

A brisk wind swept Brendon’s haze away, enabling him to not face plant onto the front steps of the school. Just as Dallon had predicted, the bell rang, shrill against the early morning. While many of the others hurried to lock up their bikes or cars, Brendon and Dallon strolled inside, parting merrily and both praying to survive the day. 

Brendon jogged to his locker and dropped off his backpack in change for what he called his morning pack, which consisted of a pencil, some paper, a charger, and other assorted items that helped him deal with Pete, including a small water bottle with weed hidden in the cap. He strung the bag around his shoulder, expecting to hear Mikey jogging over to him, trying to get a few words in before class started, but was only met with silence. He walked to class alone, feeling the hatred pass between students on opposite sides of the war on East High. Ms. Benoit’s room already had a few people in it when Brendon entered. Ms. Benoit looked up at him, a confused look on her face. 

“Brendon, may I speak to you?” she asked, walking over to him and directing him towards her desk. Brendon sat down at the closest chair and leaned in.

“I’m just a little bit worried about you. We started off the week going a little bit slow… But now you’ve seemed to have caught up with everyone else. I’m not saying this is a bad thing, believe me, I think it’s great, it just seems a little unlike you. And I’m not saying I’m totally oblivious to everything that’s going around right now, I’m just making sure you’re okay. Are you?” Ms. Benoit asked, a genuine note of concern and sympathy in her voice. Brendon smiled at her and nodded, not speaking a single word.

“Okay, kiddo. I just want to remind you I’m here for you. Go get in your seat before the bell rings,” she smiled. Brendon flashed another smile before bolting back to his seat where he immediately pulled out his phone and began to regale his interaction with his teacher. 

Pricky: ms. benoit just asked me if i was okay because i was on time for school jesus christ Dallon give me lessons on how to be a good boy

Pricky: that didn’t come out right

Spenis: (;

Pricky: are you even allowed to say that? you’re his boyfriend jfc

The bell rang loud and clear through the hallway and Lindsey burst through the door, panting. Ms. Benoit gave her a stern look, but allowed her to pass to her seat without a tardy. On her way over, she hissed at Brendon.

“I wouldn’t keep your head down today if I were you. Never know what’ll come your way.” That was more than enough warning for Brendon. He knew what was coming. Everyone knew. 

The chat stayed quiet while all teachers across the building addressed their first class of the day and handed out the Warm up. All was well and silent until…

_Snip._

Ms. Benoit had apparently not heard the click of metal scissors cutting through something, but all of the members of the back table, window side definitely had. Brendon’s hand flew to the back of his head, making sure that his hair was still perfectly in tact. That day, his reflexes were in perfect working order, as he had to stay on his toes or he just might lose one or two. 

There was silence while the table worked out just who had been the unlucky target, and who had been the perpetrator. Bob shuffled back over, a sharpened pencil in hand, and everyone was left with no recollection of him ever standing up. 

“Nice haircut, Josh,” Bob chuckled, walking over to a table with a few of his more distant friends. Josh instantly yelped, and pulled a chunk of his hair from his shoulder, which he had evidently not noticed. His eyes narrowed at the eerily blond boy, strutting away from the table in the most arrogant way. It would’ve been petty to say he would pay, because Josh was smarter than that. Josh was smarter than _Bob._ And that’s all that really mattered.

Josh really wasn’t one for poetry. He was a quiet boy, who kept to himself and Tyler, but he could still work himself up to having a good time with his friends. He wasn’t absurd in thinking he’d be excluded on the Day Of ‘Everyone Wishes They Were Dead’, but he never really thought Bob would be one painting a target on his pretty little back. Sure, Josh had ideas of what to do to any other fiend who dared mess with him, but Bob was… different. _No,_ he thought, _Bob was different indeed. Bob deserved the kind of punishment that didn’t hurt him directly. In the long run._

Josh shook the excess hair onto the floor and slumped over his desk, worrying more about the  
World War ||| that was about to start than World War || he was learning about. While Josh was off doing what looked like sulking, Brendon was watching everyone in the class very closely. He’d perched his chair up against the wall, so no one could walk behind him. He would be ready for any attackers, like a ninja. 

Lindsey sank back in his chair, contemplating her next move. It was completely unfounded, and she really was just starting shit for no reason, but that was the point of the prank war. If life seemed a little boring, just leave it to Lindsey to bring the spunk right back. She looked over at Ray, who’s eye lids were droopy from the early hour. Just a little longer, she thought, reaching into her back pack. Ray slid his face down his arm that he was resting on and lay his head down on the desk. Lindsey waited a few seconds, until his breathing slowed and his breathe came through his mouth. Lindsey acted normal, since her years of learning the poker face along with Mikey had come in handy. If it wasn’t for him, she would’ve ended up at the bottom of the pile, just another amateur, but Mikey took her under his wing, and at that point, she needed no one’s help anymore. Lindsey was wise when it came to pranking, and she nearly came neck and neck with Spencer. It would be a rough day for the two of them, so the sooner it began, the better. 

Lindsey was sure God was on her side, because at that moment, Bob decided to be an ass. It was one of his specialities. 

“You know what Josh? The new look is really starting to grow on me-“

“Mr. Bryar, would you care to share your conversation with the entire class? If it’s so important,” Ms. Benoit called out. In the blink of an eye, Lindsey shot forward, swiped some goo on Ray’s forehead and flew back into her seat, just as Ray looked up, wondering who the hell smacked him. 

“No, Ms. Benoit.” Bob shuddered under her un-caffeinated glare. Lindsey picked at her finger nails, unconcerned. 

“Very good. As I was saying-“ But from the corner of Lindsey’s dark eyes, she snuck a look over at Ray, who didn’t even bother poking the icky substance smeared on his face before face planting again. Lindsey smiled sadly to herself, wondering if it was worth it. 

The calm morning aura that was so delicately settled upon the masked innocent minds that day was suddenly violently broken by a yelp and a clatter of chairs from none other than back table, window side. Ray had lifted his head up at such an alarming velocity that his chair had slid backwards and he had been rudely ejected onto the cold, hard linoleum. Ms. Benoit looked over at him, shocked and paler than a snowman. She rushed over, throwing her coffee mug onto her desk and promptly spilling it all over her paper for the second time in four days. 

Many of the students couldn’t have been less interested in the prank war, as they were much to afraid to dive into it, but for those who were brave or idiotic, it was a little peek into a world of suffrage. Many eyes poured down as many necks craned for a better look at Ray, who was writhing around on the floor, clawing at him face. Ms. Benoit shoved the kids aside, and crouched down next to him, putting a hand on his back and trying to get some kind and reassuring words through to him, depose the nervous whispers being passed along like a game of telephone. 

“Ray? What’s going on? Are you okay? Sweetie, please talk to me,” she said in her most calm voice. It was a vast difference from two days ago. 

Ray kicked some more, and clenched his fists. “It burns!” he shouted. Ms. Benoit gave him a sad look, before taking his shaky hands in hers and helping him up, which really was worth the trouble. Many kids got knocked around more than a few got some bruises that would last a few days, just from Ray’s spastic arms and legs. Ms. Benoit ushered him to the door, whilst simultaneously calmly giving directions to some assorted students. She walked Ray out the door, stilling whispering to him supportively, while Lindsey stood in the back of the class, feeling guilty but also feeling the adrenaline pumping through her that made her sure that that day would be worthwhile. She rushed over to the phone, dialing up the nurse, and mentally prepared herself for the day to come. 

~

Skype stayed quieter than a deadman. There was no gossiping over Ray’s “incident” as it had been coined. There was no small talk over it, no whispers, no intrigue. No, for the students of East High, it was just the beginning. It wasn’t just a thing for the select group of trash cans that was Brendon’s friend group either, no, it was the entire school, but it was only Brendon who really associated with the rest of the school. That way, no one else caught the back end of some of the more explosive pranks going around. It worked out well.

Ms. Benoit considered herself a hip teacher. She could talk to her students as a friend rather than a teacher, but she still kept a high level of respect, as long as the students felt she was doing a good job. She didn’t get walked over, due to her nice and friendly personality as some teachers did, but she didn’t get a rep as a hard-ass either. A happy medium was what she considered herself. A happy medium that was more than willing to go full nuke mode if her students acted out. And when she walked back in that door, after having to talk Ray into getting picked up where he could be taken to the doctor, she was practically radioactive. 

“Alright!” she declared, storming over to her desk with the appeal of fire lightning. “Alright! I’m gonna skip the obvious questions, the who and why, because let’s be real here for a moment- No one here is gonna snitch. It’s prank war day four, I get it. But I’m gonna draw the line at putting others through physical pain. And I’m pretty damn sure all the other teachers are gonna agree with me on that one. So instead, let’s just make one thing very, very clear. If anyone pulls that crap in my class, hell, in my school again, the punishment will be severe. How clear am I?” she scolded.

“Transparent,” the class responded in unison.

Just as everyone had apparently settled back down, and Skype was still stowed securely away, there was a noise that just didn’t really match the classroom setting.

 _“Meow.”_ Meagan looked up guiltily. Only Brendon saw this weird little notion, but put it aside until his brain woke up enough to comprehend it. Ms. Benoit payed no attention to the little outburst, and Meagan seemed to settle as Ms. Benoit still showed no implication she’d even heard it in the first place. Just as she looked back down at her paper, another curious little noise was to be heard.

 _“Meow.”_ Meagan squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her pencil tightly. Brendon narrowed his eyes curiously. Meagan froze as Ms. Benoit’s head lifted for a split second. She scanned the room. Satisfied, she went back to reading her “morning book”. It was a little literary brain waker upper she went over, little by little, each morning, if she could. Meagan looked increasingly worried over the new and unusual noises being omitted from the table she was sat at. She snuck a nervous glance to her bag, which, of course, Brendon pounced on.

“You okay, Meagan? You look a little… catatonic.” She sent him a ghostly glare, as Brendon sat back in his chair, a smug smile that reeked of a familiar Bob-like essence. Brendon was about to say more, but he was caught, again, by,

 _“Meow.”_ This time, Ms. Benoit looked up right away, bright blue eyes grazing over every tired face. She shook her head and sighed, going back over her book. She said nothing.

The rest of the class went similarly. Someone pushing Ms. Benoit’s buttons, and continuously freaking Meagan out for unknown reasons. By the time even the kids who genuinely enjoyed school were glaring at the clock, as for it to solve their inpatient problems, Ms. Benoit was going a little bit mad. 

_“Meow.”_ She had already gulped down the last bit of her coffee and dumped the cup in the trash, which she apparently instantly regretted. She cracked her neck and shot up, glaring at her class. Not breaking eye contact with each and every single one of her students, she slunk around her desk and crouched down over her backpack. She finally turned her back to dig through her bag, of course this was only to hear,

 _“Meow.”_ she grumbled to herself, as she looked through her back. Suddenly she sat back and looked at her students stupidly. She looked confused, if you asked Brendon, and this was abnormal for Ms. Benoit. She stood back up, dusting her pink jeans off, and scuffled around to her desk, where she flung open every single drawer. At this point, the entire class was watching her anxiously as she went on her quest to find whatever she was looking for. She let out very many agitated grunts and mumbles as she journeyed through the depths of her desk that she probably hadn’t looked through in a few months. At last, she slammed the drawers shut and stormed to the back of the class, no longer hearing the Meows that were still ominously echoing through the room. Meagan was white as a sheet and started nowhere but the desk in front of her.

Ms. Benoit threw open the cupboards on the back wall, only to find two shelves completely empty. She gasped and turned around slowly to face her class.

“Now I don’t have a law degree or any viable proof, but I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that someone in this class stole my mugs.” She opened her mouth to say more, but all of the sudden, there was a minute knock on the door. She turned her lazier gaze to the blue door and stared, long and hard, until someone opened it. A friendly face, or, friendly to those who did his homework, peeked through the crack in the doorway. Ms. Benoit beckoned the teacher inwards with her hand. Instead of walking over, he made the same motion back. That meant one thing- someone had fucked up really badly.

Brendon craned for just a small drop of what was being said, but nothing came even remotely close to being heard by him- after all, he was sitting in the back corner window side, which was about as far from the door as you could get. From where he was sitting, Brendon could see Ms. Benoit smile broadly, and accept a package that looked suspiciously like Dallon’s backpack.

“Is that…?” Lindsey began, but Brendon shushed her. Ms. Benoit smiled again and waved the teacher away, shutting the door with a click. She strutted over to her desk, set the backpack, which was definitely Dallon’s on her desk, and walked over to her coffee maker.

“How the fuck?” Josh asked, scratching his head. It only got weirder as Ms. Benoit walked back over to the backpack, unzipped it, pulled out _all_ of her mugs, one by one, and set them out neatly on her desk. Brendon raised his hand slowly, preparing to ask a question he honestly didn’t know how to word, when suddenly,

 _“Meow.”_ Only this time, it sounded significantly different. Before Ms. Benoit could even raise her head again, the bell rang. Meagan slowly and carefully picked up her bag, which was quite an odd choice in the grand scheme, as literally everyone else bolted. Only Brendon waited for her, Josh trailing at his heels. The three formed a line as them got out into the hallway, Meagan looking uncharacteristically nervous. 

“I brought a sound machine,” Josh said proudly, holding up the device that had slowly been driving their teacher mad the previous class. Meagan rolled her eyes and glared at Josh, not even a glimmer of a smile appearing to congratulate his prank. Brendon studied her and almost made an inquisition, before Meagan cut him off.

“Oh yeah?” she stopped and opened her bag. “I brought my God damn cat!” Inside the bag was indeed a kitten, who was fast asleep despite all the noise coming from all corners of the hallway. Her bag had been cleared so she had enough room for the small cat. Brendon opened his mouth to object, but she again but him off.

“I’ve got all the cat things in my locker. Don’t worry. I’ve been planning this for a while,” she sighed dismally. Brendon supposed not everything was going perfectly to plan. But what else was to be expected? 

~

Further down the hallway, Brendon was lucky enough to get his first glorious dose of daily drama. Dallon had apparently yanked Spencer aside and was too busy shouting at him to notice Brendon, Josh, and Meagan watching from the other side of the hallway. In all honesty, it wasn’t that bad a view.

“You can’t do that! You started early!” Dallon shrieked, flailing his hands in the air for lack of anything better to do with them. 

“Well I guess it’s too late now!” Spencer cackled. Brendon decided it was time to intervene. 

“What happened?” he asked, strutting over and feeling a little bit better over all. Spencer rolled his eyes and Dallon huffed anxiously. 

“Spencer got me in detention for stealing Ms. Benoit’s stupid mugs. She’s not even my teacher!” Dallon tattled. Spencer elbowed him, but Dallon shoved right back. Brendon took a moment to think about this, now that the hour was later and his brain had unlocked the thinking capability. 

“How’d he even get them into your backpack in the first place?” Brendon asked. Dallon scoffed and walked away. Spencer sent him a suspicious look and winked. Brendon didn’t know how to take that and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to.

~

The next class was bound to be exciting. He had both Dallon and Spencer in it, which would make for some very interesting group work. Brendon knew Dallon quite well, and he definitely knew that even if Ms. Benoit had confiscated Dallon’s backpack, Dallon would- under no circumstances- let Spencer get away with it. 

As the bell rang and some last minute attendees raced through the doorway, Brendon sat back in preparation to enjoy his lavish class. Even if he’d rather observe Dallon thinking about how to possibly murder Spencer in opposition to some germ on a petrie dish. Drama was a germ.

The moment all the instructions had been laid out on the table, and not nearly soon enough if you ask Dallon, Ms. Benoit stepped through the door. Dallon instantly whipped his head around, and she gave him and somewhat pathetic excuse for a smile. She crept into the class, trying to interrupt, and dropped the backpack off with Dallon. She ran back to the door and waved smugly at Dallon, before dropping out of sight. This little gesture might not have been the friendliest, but that was all none of Dallon’s concern. His instantly dove headlong into his backpacks, accounting for everything he’d deliberately packed for that day. He sat back up and sighed, sending Brendon a nervous smile. All was good in mormon land, Brendon decided.

It was obvious that Spencer knew Dallon was going to retaliate, and he was more than right. He kept sending nervous glances in the direction of Dallon and Brendon who had chosen to be lab partners at the beginning of the year, and now Spencer was stuck on the edge with no one to protect him. Brendon only noticed Spencer’s weird tick because Dallon was sporting the exact same one. Every few minutes he would send one look towards the teacher, who was disconcerted, and another towards Spencer who’s eyes would flicker up but not turn to Dallon. Silently waiting. 

But Dallon was growing anxious. By that point, he was also sending looks to the clock, as time was running out. There was a small burst of laughter from near Spencer, and Brendon took this as a sign. He nudged Dallon. Dallon looked over at Spencer who, for he first time all class, now had his back to them. Dallon grabbed a zip tie from inside his backpack and tip toed over to Spencer. He crouched down behind him and slipped the zip tie through one of the rings in the chair, and also through Spencer’s belt loop. Then he slipped away, sliding across the floor. 

“Mr. Weekes,” the teacher suddenly appeared next to him. Dallon gulped and mentally slapped himself. “May I ask you why you’re scooting around on the floor?” Spencer bolted around, eyeing him nervously. Dallon winked and Spencer went into full on “batten down the hatches” mode. Dallon picked himself up off the floor and scuttled back to him seat, trying to hide his smile. He was beaming. 

Dallon did not do as good as a job accounting time as he thought he did, as there was much more of class left than he thought. So far, only one kid had been Seamus Finnegan’d, and that was more than enough for Dallon, despite how funny it had been. As Brendon began to recount the tale of Ray’s departure earlier, there was a screech from Dallon’s right. All the class looked over to see none other than Spencer, who was attempting to stand, and quite frankly, had not gotten anywhere at all. The teacher rushed over, his old man brain trying to asses the situation before it got out of control. Too late for that, Brendon thought.

Once he realized what had happened, their teacher sighed tiredly and walked away. He sulked back over with a pair of scissors and cut him loose. His short term memory aided Dallon just this once, as it had evidently erased their little encounter. Spencer, on the other hand, had not forgotten in the least. He sent Dallon and look that Brendon intercepted. He smiled and waved sarcastically. 

The only thing Dallon was left to worry about was Spencer’s trip to the bathroom near the end of class. His words that he had whispered on his way out still haunted Dallon. 

_“Good luck.”_

He had said it again on the way back, which Dallon found a little anticlimactic, but still unsettling. Dallon fell back into Cloud 9 as he wondered why Spencer would ruin his streak by scaring Dallon with the same stupid phrase, but maybe the point wasn’t to scare him. He looked down at his backpack and saw a horrible sight. It was open. He hadn’t left it open. He looked inside and saw something that made his blood run cold- his tube of superglue was _open._ At that very moment, the bell rang, loud and clear, like a warning. Dallon picked up his backpack, shoved Spencer, and ran out of the class, closely followed by a yelling Spencer.

Skype had practically leveled by the time second period ended, and half the students of East High decided hell had frozen over and Sam and Dean should get the hell to their school cause that’s where all the demons were. Gerard was definitely one of these believers. While Brendon was on his way to P.E., Gerard was sulking through the hallway, trying to stay out of prank war. His heart just wasn’t having it that day. Speaking of his heart, he suddenly felt a little twinge as he looked past some people in the hallway. He couldn’t remember why that particular group of people left a bitter taste in his mouth. His eyes focused, and his legs stopped working like a car left in the snow. A laugh rang out, loud and piercing- and then it stopped. The kid turned around and he almost smiled at Gerard. Almost.

Gee smiled at him, waving a little but catching himself. The kid walked over, past Gerard and to his locker. Gee followed despite being ignored like that.

“Hey Bert,” Gee whispered, leaning against the lockers, his crop top riding up a little bit. Bert tilted his head a little in response. 

“What’s up?” Gee asked, trying to not sound like he was close to tears. 

“Nothing. Why?” he replied, not looking at Gerard. He pulled out his lock and opened his locker, hiding his face from Gerard. Gee tried not to take it personally, although he knew he should be. 

“Oh no reason,” he said, trying to sound disinterested but intriguing all at once. It wasn’t really working for him. “Just wanted to talk to you again.” Gee smiled.

“Okay, Gerard,” Bert turned to him, not expressing the friendly smile he knew all to well. “I’m sure I’m not the first person to try to get this through to you, but I hope you take my word, if no one else’s. Gee, you literally just broke up with your boyfriend, you then wear drag to school, I don’t know why,” his eyes said he didn’t really care why either. “And now you come and try to talk to me. Seriously? Last time we spoke was when we broke up. So… I don’t know what your deal is an I don’t want any part of it. The Revenge of Gerard, as it’s called, does not have my vote.” The bell rang out, loud and clear. The two had not noticed the hallway clear. 

“Gotta go,” Bert sighed, slamming his locker shut. Gee raised his hand to wave goodbye, but was instead met by a kiss on the cheek. Bert didn’t say anything as he turned and walked down the hallway. He didn’t even realize what he’d done until he stepped into math class. He also successfully got detention by walking in, dropping his book, screaming “Fuck!” and slamming his head against the wall.

While Bert was sulking over his new detention, Dallon was casually walking to his locker after successfully evading Spencer who was most likely seething somewhere. His backpack, which had indeed felt abnormally heavy that morning, was now feeling as light as a pillow, and Dallon was appreciative of that. A nervous thought struck the back of his head, his superglue mystery, as his twirled his fingers around the dial of his lock. He yanked down and the lock complied, as after years of overuse, the lock could literally be opened by any combination. He held the lock in his left hand and yanked open his locker only… It didn't budge. Dallon yanked again, but to no avail. He grumbled some things to himself before he noticed the sticky substance leaking from the corners and hinges of his locker. The same sticky substance that was probably oozing all over his backpack right then. It was just like the tuna all over again. This was a kick in the ribs for poor old Dallon, whose instincts, while content on surviving, were a little bit more lax when it came to what surviving really meant. In this case, surviving meant “let it be”. Dallon groaned and rolled his eyes, not even bothering to put his lock back before he walked to the locker room. 

He marched down to the locker room, whizzed through both flights of stairs, and very nearly entered the locker room unseen. He hadn’t forgotten about the mystical Ms. Borin, who saw, heard, and smelled everything that went in and out of the locker room. He didn’t even dare try and make it past her room unseen, because he knew it would be a wasted effort. She wasn’t a teacher to be _feared,_ per say, but she definitely wasn’t one to be underestimated. Dallon was just being cautious.

“Mr. Weekes,” she said before he even set foot in her room. That, and her back was facing him. He didn’t know how she did it. She spun around on her spinny chair and looked at him. 

“Now why do you have your backpack?” she asked, clicking her pen and her tongue in unison. Dallon slipped his pack off his shoulder and let is slide to the flood, only holding on to it by one of it’s straps. 

“My locker is superglued shut.” Ms. Borin laughed and nodded understandingly. Dallon thought he was in the clear and made his way over to the emergency locker for backpacks and other things accidentally brought to class. She held out a hand to stop him, when he was nearly halfway there. Never underestimate Ms. Borin.

“And why might your locker be superglued shut?” she asked with a teasing smile. Dallon tried to gulp in the most unnoticeable way, and only ended up choking on his own spit. He was sure it made for a very unattractive sight. 

“Well, you see,” he fumbled. “Well there’s this whole prank thing going on which I’m sure you know all about since you’ve been here for a while- crap I’m not calling you old I just meant-“

“Cut to the chase, Weekes.” She gave him an encouraging smile with just about as much warmth as the moon. 

“My boyfriend takes today very seriously. I didn’t get a pardon from his pranks.” Dallon didn’t even realize he’d used the word boyfriend. 

“Glad to know you could finally spit it out. Alright, drop your stuff and get outta here,” Ms. Borin sighed, eyeing him like the little devil she thought he was. Not in a bad way, just in a ‘that boy is too good to be good’ sorta way.

After changing into the uniforms that were the source of all the schools’ pain, the itchy students made their way into the gym. The weather outside was much too frightful for anyone to dream of playing basketball out there. Ms. Borin blew her whistle and Brendon and Dallon huddled together in the hallway by the gym that was only around five degrees warmer than the rest of Salt Lake. 

“Alright you grimy teens! We need to get your heart muscles pumping, so let’s warm up with two laps around the gym!” She blew her whistle. **“Go!”**

Everyone bitterly hopped up and began their truck from the hallway into the gym. Dallon and Brendon shared a look that said “this has gone too easily so far”. How right they were. 

Left with no other choice, the two plunged into the blindingly bright lights with the enthusiasm of a pigeon hit by a car and dumped in the trash. Brendon set one foot on the shiny floorboards and felt the rush of the bitterly cold air. In the blink of an eye his balance left him. Brendon, along with all the other poor souls trapped there, slipped and smacked face first onto the soapy floor. He rolled over, ignoring Dallon’s pained groans.

“It’s a fucking slip and slide!” he shrieked, cupping a hand around his numb elbow. Dallon let out mute sobs, only noticeable by his heaving back.

“Language!” Ms. Borin shouted, but the look on her face was dramatically unconcerned. She was a good teacher, and many thought she’d actually fought in a war or two. That’s how she knew how to take such good care of her students, and was also why she was the most respected person in the school, aside from Ms. Mann. That just had “No” written all over it.

She patched up her fallen soldiers, Brendon and Dallon included, and sent them outside to the track to walk it off. The cold was so magnificent, that if you spat on the ground during one lap, when you came back, it would’ve been frozen. And all that was simply too much for Brendon and Dallon, so they instead snuck into the teacher’s lounge which was thankfully uninhabited. Dallon was initially reluctant to partake in such “dangerous” and “could get us in trouble, Brendon” type activities, but he decided that he preferred having all his toes to possibly getting detention. Which he already had.

~

Unlike most of the Juniors at East High, Dallon rather enjoyed his walk from third period to lunch. It was filled with all the joys of high school. Screaming and panicking freshman, Seniors who’ve learned to hold it in and just look a tad constipated over everything, teachers fleeing to the lounge, papers flying everywhere, and the wonderful sounds and lockers slamming and his boyfriend screaming at him. 

“Dallon!” Spencer shrieked, pushing jittery freshies out of his way. Dallon smirked over his shoulder, not stopping for him in the slightest. 

“Yes?” Dallon replied in his best sing-song voice, once Spencer had caught up with him.

“Really Dallon? Really?” he criticized, trying his best to make Dallon feel the least bit guilty for snitching on him, but Dallon couldn’t be bothered.

“Revenge is a bitch, isn’t it?” Dallon smiled sickeningly sweetly at him. Spencer wasn’t joking around anymore- he was pissed. 

“Dallon, I got detention.” This got his attention. He refrained from jerking his head to look at Spencer to see if he was serious, because this would let Spencer know Dallon was worried, and this was something Dallon was firmly against that day. Instead, Dallon shrugged, that smile still plastered to his face like plastic surgery, and leaned against a locker. Spencer waited patiently for Dallon to say something, but to no avail. Dallon chuckled and shook his head, giving him the bitchiest kiss on the cheek before sauntering away smugly. 

~

Aside from Dallon, roughly seventy percent of East High’s Junior’s officially hated emotions. Dallon, despite his heart warming conversation with Spencer, was still fucking freezing, Brendon had taken advantage of the free coffee in the teacher’s lounge, and Gerard was simply not having it. His day had been shit, and he was sleep deprived, which wasn’t good for any sane person. Gerard hoped he was still sane, but he was on the fence with that one.

The lunch bell rang, and everyone, gloom and all, made their way to the cafeteria. It seemed to be going well enough, until everything decided to happen. Out of everyone who was ready to fly directly into the sun, the miserably of all was Gerard. He saw the entrance to the cafeteria, but couldn’t bring himself to go in. Maybe it was how none of his friends looked as though they possessed the power to listen his spirits, or maybe it was how Frank was sitting in his usual spot, but Gee was not. Before any dismal eyes, darkened by not only the clouds but the faces of their peers laid eyes on him, and slunk out of sight. His back hit the cold wall and he plummeted. He was beyond feeling pathetic by the time his knees folded into his chest, and with the first breathy sobs rising up in his throat, he knew he was in deep. He knew he needed a plan, but he wasn’t sure the capacity to form one was available to him. He clenched his fists and thought long and hard about what in the actual fuck he could do and only one piece of solid advice came to mind, and he really wasn’t fond of it. 

_“Talk to Jamia.”_

He’d really rather not, but nothing else came to mind. He was a blank canvass and the only paint that would come pouring down over him would come if he let himself admit that maybe he got it wrong. He hadn’t wanted to do this before because, well, what if he was wrong? What if he let himself believe that Frank was telling the truth and then he was wrong? He didn’t want to hurt himself again, because this time there wouldn’t be anyone to blame but himself, and he didn’t know what he’d do if he had the closure he didn’t want. He was pretty sure Mikey knew, and the fact that the worst assumed conclusion was fact really stung. And it was that piercing feeling in his heart that forced him to make his damn mind up. He was going to have to talk to Jamia.

~

Gee was already miserable when he sat down, and who was the first to notice? Frank. He opened his mouth to ask if Gee was alright, but of course, he remembered that they were broken up and shut his mouth with a click. And that little click set a poor, emotionally wrecked Gerard off into an oblivious rage.

“What?! You wanna say something! Fucking say it then!” His eyes glittered dangerously and suddenly tears started to pour down his cheeks before he even realized he was sad. He knew this was hurting him, and he’d cried the night before, but this little movement was real. Just _talking_ to Frank again hurt. And he realized that he was sad, and tired and most of all, scared. And Frank looked scared. He didn’t look sympathetic or cocky like Gerard pictured he would, no, he shrunk back in his own skin and hid. Gerard took a breath that only half reached his lungs because hyperventilation had already taken over.

“Fuck it!” he screamed, and marched away, hands in pockets and leaving his stuff behind. Frank looked for Mikey to run after him, but his seat was empty, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness overcame him. Not even Pete could pat him on the back, or eat with him on the roof when he was feeling down. No, this time he was alone. 

“I’m just gonna…” Frank got up, sniffled, grabbed his backpack, and walked away in the other direction. It would’ve been rude to burst into conversation the moment both were gone, so the table collectively waited a solid fifteen seconds after Frank rounded the corner until exploding into a verbal Skype session. Brendon leaned close to Meagan for insight.

“What the fuck are we gonna do with them?” he asked, not really sounding like he answer would impact him in the slightest. Just being courteous. Classic Brendon.

“Lock ‘em in a closet,” she sighed. Brendon nearly spat out his drink. He stared at her worriedly.

“Are you fucking serious? Isn’t that a little childish?” he asked, astonished at such a solution from a person such as Meagan.

“This, coming from you?” Meagan contended. Brendon receded back a little from the insult, but kept his threatening eye contact. As threatening as a ghost in lingerie. 

“Well, it does work. I’ve been through some serious Pete and Mikey shit, and let me tell you, I’m never getting involved like that ever again. That was one more shit storm than this gal could take, thank you very much,” the tiredness in her eyes shone especially bright as she said those words. Brendon’s eye twitched at this new information. Many questions he probably shouldn’t ask at school popped into his head, and of course filter-less Brendon let them all fly out.

As Brendon let out worrisome questions, and Meagan replied with colorful language that made everyone turn a little pinkish, the calm took a U-turn into calamity. 

“What the fuck, Josh!” Tyler shrieked, spitting orange juice all over the table. Jon swatted the flying liquid away and fell off his chair. Tyler looked up from his soaked shirt and saw only the faces of everyone at the entirety of the two tables staring at him. There was nothing in Tyler’s head that he could use to improvise what had just happened, so the only thing that came out of his lips, besides a little bit more ‘orange juice’, was the plain old truth. (It really wasn’t so plain.)

“He fucking _said_ it was orange juice.” There was no comprehension from anyone at the table. Jon pulled himself back up and joined the confused staring contest. 

“It was fucking mac and cheese powder water!” This was met with tremendous approval, being that every single person burst out laughing, and by the end of it, two more had fallen out of their seats and were hugging their aching stomachs tightly. No one found this nearly as funny as Josh did. Tyler sat and sulked, steam nearly pouring out of his ears. He crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at Josh who wrapped an arm around Tyler as an apology.

When the group found once again the solace that was silence, Brendon was already eager to break it again. 

“Does anyone know where Ryan is?” he asked, mind wondering if his absence had any correlation to an anonymous prank he had pulled earlier during third. Dallon had no clue about this prank, as Brendon had told him he was just going to the bathroom. Truthfully, he had gone to the bathroom, but it wasn’t the only thing he did on his little escapade. One quick trip to his locker and then he was set. And now someone had clearly paid the price.

“I’m right here,” said a very aggressive voice. Dallon was the first to respond, and the only thing he managed to do was cup a hand to his mouth like it was a magnet. Ryan was sopping wet, from the top of his head to his stomach. From the splash pattern, something had been dumped on him, and based off the smell, it was very clear what that something was. 

“Ryan,” Patrick began, stifling a laugh. “You smell, um…”

“Yeah, I’m pretty aware what I fucking smell like. I smell like a fucking strawberry, I get it.” There was silence for a moment while it hit people that Ryan was in fact not drenched in water but instead in a very fragrant type of lube. There were a few mutterings here and there of “Oh man. Oh my god,” but none seemed the guilty sort. 

“I only dropped by here before going home to ask once and for all if anyone would like to come clean-“ there were snickering from his choice of words. He narrowed his eyes, but the snickering only got worse. “About who exactly did this to me. It’s very funny, sure, but I’m only gonna ask once. Anyone gonna fess up?” His words hung in the air, but not a single hand was raised, in fact, everyone stayed so still it was as though Medusa herself had made eye contact half as ferocious as Ryan’s. 

“Fine,” he stated. “I’ll see you all in hell.” And he marched off, feet squeaking agains the tiled floors. 

“That was…. eventful,” Bob whispered, sounding shocked even for him. Ryan rounded the corner as it began to settle within everyone. Not moments after Ryan’s departure, the rage monster known as Lindsey stomped over to them, darker circles around her eyes than those of the Seniors on exam day. She snatched up a chair from a neighboring table and threw it at the empty place at their table, slamming her ass onto the chair angrily. Up close, it was apparent just how dark and smudged the smear around her eyes really were. It was a little impressive. 

“Lindsey, what happened to your face? I mean, I’m not one to judge, but this is… This is something Lindsey. You look like Gerard with all that eyeliner smeared down your face,” Bob joked, commenting overly on her appearance, which was appreciated by no one. Especially his last comment. Hayley gasped and elbowed him in the gut. 

“That wasn’t nice,” she hissed angrily, her pale cheeks reddening alarmingly. Lindsey sent Bob a look that told him he’d get some payback for that last comment. Bob shut the hell up. 

“Well _someone_ replaced my eyeliner with Sharpie. And IN CASE Y’ALL DIDN’T NOTICE, SHARPIE DOESNT COME OFF!” she yelled, throwing her lunch onto the table, and sending papers flying. No one dared to laugh at her, because it may very well have been the last thing they ever did. Lindsey had, per say, a reputation. At least her look matched it.

She pulled out her food and dumped half an entire bottle of salad dressing onto her wilted salad. At least her food wouldn’t be an asshole, she thought. 

Spencer felt pretty wilted too. He honestly hadn’t expected to get backlash from Dallon on the front of his pranks, and from where he stood at that point, he realized that had been a pretty dumb assumption. Even Spencer hadn’t guessed Dallon would snitch of all things. Dallon was a wild card, but only so wild thanks to his religious beliefs. A wild card, with a conscience. That was the difference between the two. Dallon turned to him, trying to act unconcerned. 

“So… You’re still going to prom, right? I mean… You didn’t get in that much trouble, did you?” Dallon asked lowly, scratching the back of his head, and keeping his head down. His small maneuver to keep their conversation just theirs failed miserably as Spencer shot up and exclaimed,

“SO YOU DO CARE!”

Dallon screamed right back. “WHY ARE YOU SUCH A LITTLE BITCH, SPENCER?!”

“YOU GOT ME IN DETENTION!” Spencer argued, as the eyes of everyone watching began to fade until it was just the two of them fighting. 

“SO DID YOU!” Dallon responded, evening the table. Spencer had nothing to say to that, or for that matter, anything to say to anyone else in general, so he picked up his stuff and walked away. Dallon couldn’t handle having to sit back down at that God awful fucking table, so he too grabbed his stuff and ran. The only difference between them and Gerard and Frank was that Dallon ran after Spencer instead of just splitting. 

The table was then down seven members and the silence was fucking stellar. It was a mix of awkwardness, exhaust, bewilderment, and flat out disappointment. That range of emotions only came to Brendon when he felt the sweet syrup of drama, and this was a little dose that would hold him over until later. That was, of course, unless he could make it worse right there. Everyone waited for someone else to break the silence. Everyone waited for everyone _els_ e to break the silence. A few people cleared their throats but it only got quieter. It was Brendon’s time to shine.

“Ryan has lube in his top drawer,” he mentioned, pretending this was a fact everyone knew and that he expected no reaction at all, when it really was quite the opposite. 

“Apparently he also keeps it on his head,” Bob joked. Hayley elbowed him again, this time a little harder than before. It was almost an entire minute later until someone popped the question. 

“How the fuck do you even know that?” Josh asked in Pete’s place. Brendon silently mourned the loss of the beloved paparazzi that followed and fed upon his antics. Brendon held up a finger and began the opening lines of that days’ monologue, but he was rudely interrupted by the one thing everyone was expecting to hear. 

“Food fight!” 

It was classic and cheesy, but it really made the day a whole lot more fun than anyone expected it to be. But the way that East High held it’s food fights was more like a game of dodgeball than an actual food fight, which made it a little more interesting. 

Sadly, this fun activity was missed by many people who definitely could’ve used it as an escape. Most of all, one Gerard Way. On his wild goose chase for Jamia, he ran into someone he would’ve turned away from given the chance, but he certainly was not given the chance. No way Bert was gonna let him get away without straightening a few things out first. Gerard gave in.

“Hey… Bert,” he sighed, really not wanting to partake in that conversation any more than he had to. Bert felt just about the same. 

“So… You, uh, you kissed me,” Gerard stated, wondering how much he could work out of Bert over this. His motives for the break up, what he was doing now, how long it took him to get over him. He didn’t know why all of this interested him so suddenly, but he wasn’t hostile towards it. 

Bert let out three short words. (Not the ones Gerard was expecting to hear.) “Out of habit.” And the conversation was over before it began. 

~

Brendon wasn’t sure what to expect in his next class, as he had a slight change in his routine. The new normal couldn’t have picked a worse time to go through a status quo shift, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He didn’t realize this, of course, until he walked into his classroom blankly, sat down at his chair, still covered in food particles and waited. This was until he looked up and noticed he was the only person in the classroom, and there was a note written in big, bold letters on the white board that explicitly said to go to the science lab instead. Brendon found this a little strange, as he wasn’t used to having history class in a science lab.

With a scrape of chairs and the screech of the door hinge, Brendon entered the newly appropriated science lab, and everything made a little bit more sense. Brendon supposed he hadn’t heard the bell ring in the hallway, as the teacher made it very clear that he was late by a menacing look in his deep brown eyes. Brendon took a random seat, suddenly very puzzled by everything. To add to all that had previously happened, sprawled across the board were the letters L-G-B-T-Q in rainbow colors. The teacher looked a little bit awkward with his shiny head and his grey tie and checkered dress shit. Once the slow moving door Brendon had forgotten to yank shut locked with a click, the teacher nervously cleared his throat. 

“Alrighty kids, today we’ve got a- uh- _different_ sort of lesson plan. As I’m sure you know today is the whole Prank Day thingy-mo-bobber, and uh, well, let’s just say it got a little out of hand. There was a um… A prank, on another student today, and essentially, it made fun of said students’ sexual preferences.” Brendon nearly choked on his own spit, and only resulted in him noticing Frank butt scooting across the floor towards him. He scuttled up and over to Brendon as the teacher turned his back and pointed to the big orange G on the board.

“No way…” Brendon trailed off, covering his mouth with his hand. There was no way his stupid prank had caused a fucking talk about homophobia. No way.

Frank, a person who was not aware of the originator of the prank, found it particularly annoying. He was not the only one to be unaware of who set the trap, and in fact, the only person who really knew was Brendon. Frank didn’t think too deeply into who started this shit show, as he, for good reasons, had other things on his mind. The further he got, the worse his outlook on life became. He was all fucked up right then, according to him. His life was a mess, and he was only in high school. He pulled out his phone, nudging Brendon to cover for him if the need arose. That was all he could manage. 

Fronk: I’m having a fucking midlife crisis and im only a junior

Stoner McBoner: im having a fucking shower and can y’all GUESS WHY

Pricky: ry i dont think u understand

There was a brief and beautiful break in the action for about three seconds, while Ryan sat, concerned, on the bathroom floor. 

Stoner McBoner: dont understand what

Spenis: THE FACT WE’RE HAVING A HOMOPHOBIA TALK™ RN 

Ryan shrieked with laughter so loudly, there came a knock on his door, wondering if he was okay. Ryan was not very fucking okay, but his mom didn’t need to know that.

Stoner McBoner: THIS IS WHAT YOU ALL DESERVE. I KNOW IT WAS ONE OF YOU. R O T F U K E R S

The b00b: YEAH WELL BELIEVE ME I FEEL GUILTY ENOUGH FOR NAIRING RAY IN THE FACE

Pricky: THAT WAS YOU

Pink Haired Spook: DIE LINDSEY

Eggan: THAT WAS FUCKING MEAN LINDSEY

Stoner McBoner: LINDSEY DID YOU JUST ADMIT TO DUMPING A BUCKET OF LUBE ON ME

The b00b: NO IM JUST SAYING WE ALL FEEL LIKE SHIT

Burgerface: WHILE Y’ALL ARE SCREAMING ABOUT THIS IM JUST GONNA ASK IS ANYONE ELSE WONDERING WHAT LIL PEEZY DID TO OUR HOUSES SINCE HE DIDN’T GET TO COME TO SCHOOL

Fronk: SHIT

Stoner McBoner: FUCK

Eggan: JE SU S IM OU T 

The b00b: I’D LIKE TO SEE HIM TRY

Well, she was right on that front. Even if Pete could’ve managed to get out of his house arrest, there was no way he’d go for Lindsey. He didn’t have a death wish. Not yet.

Before Frank could immerse himself back into the raging chat, his ears picked up a rather unsavory bit of linguistics. He really wanted to go back to Skype and ignore them, especially now that Gerard had returned and was pretending nothing had happened at all, but Brendon had also caught on.

It was just a few sentences here and there, a scoff or two, an eye roll, but it was more than enough. The two boys sitting in front of them were being complete and utter dicks. And once Frank noticed that, it was all over for them. 

“I can’t believe we have to actually sit through this bullshit. It’s not like anyone gave a shit about that little twink anyway,” said one guy to the other. Brendon’s stomach churned. 

“I know right?! He got was he deserved, being all gay and shit. I wonder if lube is flammable. We shoulda torched that motherfucker,” he paused for a second. “More like daddy fucker.” And the two doubled over in a giggle fest, that was naturally unnoticed by the teacher. When they finally seemed able to contain themselves, one sat up and sighed, an evil smile still on his face.

“I would’ve loved to smack the makeup right off that fag’s face.” The other nodded in agreement, and at that point, Brendon was seething. But before Brendon even had the idea, Frank the pyro was in action. He leant forward, switched on the bunsen burner, and watched the sleeve of one of the guys’ hoodies catch on _fire._ It took him a few seconds to notice, but Frank was fairly certain he felt it when the flame ate a hole right through his jacket and hit his arm. And Frank didn’t feel the least bit guilty over it. Not even when he sat in the chair outside Ms. Mann’s office.

~

 

Meanwhile, Brendon was of course shitting himself with laughter. The teacher had only found Frank guilty of the crime, and once the injured kid was sent off to the nurse, Frank saw his first shit-storm of the day, he was sent off to the principal. Brendon imagined he was not enjoying that. 

Pricky: AND THE DETENTION COUNT RISES!

Spenis: JDS JR KSMJS JGFISG EBGsugi roskx

The Purest Word of God: H O W

Pricky: there was an. um. incident.

Old Man Jonnie: Brendon just tell us stop playing Sherlock

Pricky: Frank set a couple of homophobes on fire

Hayl Satan: HE DID WHAT

Spenis: HE FUCKIG

Pink haired spook: WH AT NO WAY

Get hard: oh my god is he fucking okay??

The chat halted like a head-on collision. Brendon could almost _hear_ the crickets chirping in the night. A few people tried to say something, but no one could find the words. Before Gerard could affirmatively say he regretted his question, Meagan went simple.

Eggan: uh

Then Lindsey pulled something that even she herself didn’t expect to do. She took the other side.

The b00b: um gee? you okay?

The Star: i just.

Get Hard: I meant the guys set on fire

The Purest Word Of God: FUCK

Spenis: wouldn’t that have had multiple people??? wouldn’t it have been they rather than he??

The Star: GOD FUCKING DAMN IT

Burgerface: IM NOT EVEN PART OF THIS AND IM DONE WITH IT

Pink haired spook: OH BELIEVE ME YOU’RE PART OF IT

The b00b: OH GOD JUST DROP IT SPENCER ITS FUCKING OVER IM DONE

Brendon clicked off his phone, smiling evilly and glaring dead ahead, staring bullets into the back of the head of the boy who got off easy when it came to fire. The boy turned around squeamishly and yelped when he saw Brendon smirk. The kids a table away scooted farther away. Brendon crossed his hands across his desk and put his head down, still smiling. Despite his “disinterest” in the drama between Gerard and Frank, this little slip Gerard made proved that Gerard was caving. And that meant it would be over soon. 

~

Well now, Brendon had had quite the day. Unsurprisingly, he had managed a relatively tame morning, a vast contrast to the lighting strikes that rained down terror upon the students every few moments. Lindsey was the brightest lightning strike, and as far as Brendon could see, she was out of his hair. Brendon scuffled over to Spencer who was busy looking over his shoulder while pretending to be getting stuff out of his locker. Sneaky. 

“I see your locker isn’t glued shut. And it was Dallon’s super glue… Well, I’m gonna hazard a guess and say that it was you who glued his locker shut,” Brendon mused. Spencer rolled his eyes and shut his locker. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” He slid his lock through the loop on his locker and clicked it shut, turning on his heel and picking up a fast pace as he walked down the hall. 

“Fuck you, Watson,” Brendon laughed. Spencer smiled briefly as Brendon followed him down the halls like a puppy. 

The two began a nonchalant bout of banter that lifted their spirits, even is Brendon was dubious on Spencer’s amnesty for him. After all, he hadn’t even spared his own boyfriend. Brendon, out of instinct and worry, scoured the halls, checking for any girl who looked twice at him. When there used to be an abundance, there was now less than none. He tried to refocus on the conversation, when he realized he was getting looks, but they weren’t the kind he liked. At first, it seemed average, people accidentally make eye contact all the time, it wasn’t a big deal. Until some of the girls started making eye contact with each other. And then Brendon knew something was wrong.

He backtracked everything that had happened that day. The only thing he could fathom was his little trick on Ryan, but Ryan wasn’t a real ladies man, and the ladies were indeed pretty bummed when he came out. 

Still, nothing out of the ordinary came to mind. He remembered Pete’s scandal but he’d already gotten his punishment for that, and he still had the bruises to prove it. It wasn’t until one girl made eye contact with him, before swiftly and not so subtly shifting over to Spencer. _Oh no._

“Spencer,” Brendon politely interrupted his friend. “We need to leave now.” 

“Brendon, what the fuck, we’re in school. We’re not going anywhere,” he replied. If Spencer shouldn’t have been one thing that day, it was oblivious. Brendon sent him a look. 

“Seriously? You’re such a baby,” Spencer groaned. He locked arms with Brendon and went on with his story. The two continued to walk, only now with a little bit more spring in their steps. Whether Spencer had gotten the hint or not, he was on the move. 

So were the girls.

In the blink of an eye, they pounced. And down, down, down Brendon and Spencer went. A kick to the crotch here, the raking of skin from freshly painted nails there, and the overall beatdown. Most of the pressure wasn't on Brendon from the get-go, as Lindsey had done a pretty fabulous job on that, but when he tried to spare Spencer from it, he became a target himself.

“WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU!” Brendon screeched, covering his face with his arms. Spencer shrieked back in response, finally kicking back, leaving dirty shoe imprints on bright jeans. The little inch of hallway Brendon could still see disappeared and he lost all hope. He looked up just in time to see a girl pull out a nail clipped and slide out to the nail file part that was far too sharp for it not to be considered a weapon at school. He ducked to the side and she slammed her hand down. 

“Holy shit,” Brendon wheezed, mostly using his body to avoid being murdered rather than fighting back, while Spencer was probably giving some free purple eyeshadow for prom night. All of the sudden, girls began to get picked off until Brendon could see the hallway again. A few teachers appeared, clad in brown teacher pants and flats and those weird dress shoes that old teachers always wear. The last few girls were pulled away, still kicking and screaming. The principal reached down and pulled them up and gave them a look. This time it was the “I know you’re a victim but you’re still going to have to answer in some way.” It had an element of sympathy in it, and that meant a lot to both boys. 

~

After that there was no word from either of the two from that moment on, which no one really minded, as if Spencer was out of the way during the Prank War, everyone felt nine-thousand percent safer. While Ms. Mann mentally prepared herself to deal with Brendon for the second time that week, both of the attacked kids sat in the chairs of doom in the office. 

“Do you have any water?” Spencer asked out of the blue. Brendon looked at him tiredly, and then nodded even more weakly. He grabbed his backpack and hoisted it onto his lap, every single movement a strain on his beaten muscles. He unzipped his backpack and rustled around inside for a few seconds before-

Poof!

Brendon looked over at Spencer with a face full of glitter. Spencer was cackling to the point of tears, while Brendon just stared at him tiredly, covered in gold glitter. 

“You deserved to be attacked.” 

***

It was sad that the boys missed sixth period, as there was a substitute teacher, and God knows that Spencer would’ve had the time of his life with that. Lindsey filled his spot, but it as like trying to make a circle fit a square. She tried though, and after a few paper airplanes and what not, she upped her game.

It started with a note. A small piece of paper, folded up and passed around the class, played off so the sub wouldn’t notice. The class had gotten pretty good at that through the year and now it was as though nothing was happening. The little note had short but detailed instructions on a strange little act the class would put on. When the note returned to Lindsey she smiled and slipped it back in her pocket. The word was out, and all she had to do now was give the signal. 

“Can someone tell me what the answer to question five is?” the sub asked, much loudly than he needed to. Lindsey raised her hand and the act began. 

“Yes?” he asked, but Lindsey’s mouth stay firmly shut. Her hand stayed in the air, not moving a muscle, not even blinking for a few seconds. The sub looked around the room to see just what was the matter, but happened upon something he considered rather odd. No one moved a muscle. Some kids were mid-whisper, hand and mouth to ear, locked in place as though time had frozen. Others lay with heads down, some about to throw a pencil or a paper airplane, but the common factor was that no one moved in the slightest. The sub opened his mouth an closed it again, and stamped his foot. 

“This is very immature!” he yelped, staring each kid down. When no one relented he reared around and stormed past his desk, grabbing the attendance on his way. He looked back and fourth from the board to the list of names while one hand scribbled them down on the board. This went on for a few seconds until Lindsey dropped her hand, and just like that, a paper airplane hit the back of the sub’s head. 

Lindsey had a lot of fun with that class period, going all across the board from having some kids randomly reenact scenes from Macbeth to Titanic, to having everyone slowly disappear from class until it was just Lindsey in the room, smiling like she was the devil herself. She had almost as much fun randomly directing him around as he attempted to bring her to the principal. 

But overall, her highlight was sitting in the chairs of doom, listening to Ms. Mann go at Brendon and Spencer for reasons unknown to her. All she got was Ms. Mann groveling, the scent of fear, and some very ashamed and bruised boys walking out half an hour later. 

~

By the time seventh period rolled around, ver few of the group were left at school, and Josh had to do a mental recap. _Pete and Mikey weren’t at school because they were fucking dumbasses, Ray got nair’d in the face and was at home sulking about his lack of eyebrows probably, Gerard had a mental breakdown and left, Ryan got a bucket of lube dumped on him by someone that was probably Brendon, Frank lit someone on fire-_ Josh cracked a smile at that one. _Spencer and Brendon were sent home because they got what they deserved for that dick pic from Tuesday, and Lindsey fucked with a sub one too many times. Also, Meagan had mysteriously disappeared sometime between fifth and seventh and Josh suspected that it was because she threw eggs at people from the roof. That only left himself, Tyler, Patrick, Dallon, Jon, Hayley, and Bob. Oh, Bob._

Josh cracked a second smile, this one unexplainably more mischievous than the first. He’d had his plan since first period where Bob thought it was hilarious to cut his hair. Josh hadn’t found it nearly as funny. To add to his harassment, he’d heard a number of wise-cracks through out the day. 

“That’s a nice haircut, Josh! Oh, I probably shouldn’t say that. He probably doesn’t find it nearly as dunny as I do.”

“Stop making so many Josh Pun’s! He’s probably ready to washua-ll away!”

It only got worse. 

But by seventh period, he was ready. He made a quick escape by faking a serious need to go to the bathroom and instead skipped towards the cafeteria, humming some song that made his revenge feel as sweet a pie. Speaking of pie, Josh burst open the doors and slid into the kitchen. There, on the far corner, was the tub of leftover pie that Josh was headed for. He checked his six, and made a direct b-line for the tray. It was just as heavy and full as he’d hoped it would be, although it made skipping to the library a hell of a lot harder.

Josh was persistent and refused to let the extra weight hold him back, as he went through the back entrance to the library. He spotted the old librarian, asleep by the front desk, and the library perfect deserted. His grin widened at the perfectness of his timing. He laid eyes on the tallest shelf, hidden amongst a cluster of other not so popular reads.He set the pie down on the ground quietly, eyes set on the librarian, just in case. When she didn’t stir, Josh made a quick dash for the stool and hurried dragged it back to his shelf. The pie tray back in his arms, he climbed to the top of the step stool and began to do some long needed rearranging. Once a space was cleared, he set the tray down and pulled out a note that was prewritten during lunch. He placed it right on top of the pie, which would surely be fermented and perfectly nauseating by the time anyone found it, and put the books back around it, so it would never be found.

Josh hurried back out of the library, not forgetting to put that stool back where he found it. He couldn’t stop thinking about the pie as he rushed back to class, as not to be called out for his bullshit excuse. The stunt had only taken about five minutes in total and he was back in his seat in no time. He smiled as he put his head down, the thought of the pie still lingering. If he was lucky enough, the liquefaction of the pie, which was already quite watery and practically to the brim of the container, would spill over the edge and onto the literature. All to be blamed on the person who put it there. Who was, according to the note, Bob Bryar. 

~

Brendon watched the clock tick, a car pulling into the driveway at exactly three-thirty. Brendon smiled a knowing smile, waiting for his window to open and Gerard to pull himself through. Since Gee had gone home, he had no way of knowing Brendon also went home, which meant that Gerard would come to him at three-thirty asking for another shoulder to cry on a more advice. This also gave Brendon the perfect opportunity to ask Gee to be his date for prom, and everything would be just fine in the book of Brendon. Only… This wasn’t the case. The front door opened, there was a calamity from the stairs and a very angry and urgent knock on his door. 

“Yeah?” Brendon asked, confused. The door nearly exploded upon itself and before Brendon could comprehend why Gerard was being so dramatic, his mother doubled him over in a hug. 

“Oh my gosh, baby! Are you alright?? Oh my gosh that was so mean of those girls, doing that to you!” she spluttered, checking out all the bruises on his face and arms. Brendon, who was glad of the comfort, still tried not to feel disappointed in his lack of a prom date. 

“Of course, what you did was very wrong and I still want you to apologize to that poor boy, but this was rude. Come on, let’s get you some bandaids.” His mother helped his up and very nearly carried him to the first aid box in the kitchen. While his mother lectured him on how he pretty much deserved what he got, but she still sympathized, Brendon tried not to put up too much of a fuss about her ruining his chances of a prom date. It was going to be a long night for him.

~

The thing that Brendon wouldn’t have understood was that Gerard didn’t go to his house and get scared off by his mother, in fact, Gerard never went to his house in the first place. While Brendon was getting lectured, Gerard was seated on the back porch of a house, doing nothing but thinking and rethinking. He’d spent his entire afternoon like that, he’d gotten up a number of times and walked half way down the block before turning around and going right back to sitting on the porch. 

He’d talked to a lot of people before leaving campus feeling distraught and guilty. A lot of people who knew a lot more truth than he did. 

**~Flashback~**

“Yeah,” Jamia sighed, taking a drag from her cigarette that made Gerard feel a lot more intimidated than he should’ve. “I slept with Frank.” Gerard recoiled and almost walked away, but she spoke again. 

“But,” she sighed, leaning forward and sitting up a little more. “That was way fucking before you two started dating. Way, way before. I didn’t deny the rumor because I did in fact sleep with him, you just never specified when.” Gerard used all the power in his body not to a) drop his jaw, or b) burst into tears. Neither would’ve solved his problem, so he thanked her and left. On his way out the door of the abandoned classroom that Jamia had taken over during the lunch period, Jamia made another noise.

“Oh, and Gee?” she asked. Gerard only partially turned, looking her over like she was about to pull a gun on him or offer him drugs or something else he’d rather not have happen. “About the other girl?” Gerard held his breath. There was one of two two things she could say. Frank either did sleep with her, and it was all over, or he didn’t and Gerard had become the biggest idiot in all of East High. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

“You can talk to that other girl, Breezy, I think her name was. But you should know, she’s a strict mormon. There’s a higher chance of her shooting someone than there is of her being someone’s cheat. Just thought you should know.” Jamie almost looked sympathetic, before she dissolved back into her cave or darkness and cigarette smoke. Gerard smiled and shut the door. He looked out, over the hallway and burst into tears.

**~End~**

The front door slammed, just as tears began to fall down his cheeks again. With the rattle of the porch spanning from the front door, Gerard realized it was now or never. He pulled himself up slowly, dusted himself off, stretched, did a little dance, counted the dents in the doorknob, just about anything to not do what he was there to do. Finally, he pulled himself together, even if only for a split second, and opened the door. Once the door was open, and the afternoon light spilled into the hallway, he felt a little bit better, a little more courage, and put a little more effort into making up his mind. 

He put one foot in the doorway, took a breath, and then out his other foot in the doorway. Just like that, he thought. One after the other. No amount of coaxing and confirmation that what he was doing was the right course of action could stop his heart from beating like it was going to explode. He made it down the hallway before he heard a noise from upstairs, and one of his fears became reality. The backdoor, which he’d forgotten to close, slammed from the wind. He made one mad dash down the hallway and slipped into a bedroom, throwing himself into the corner before the door even shut behind him. He yanked his knees close to his chest and bit his lip, shaking in the darkness. 

The footsteps from the stairs stopped and so did Gerard’s breathing. Slowly, a small strip of light folded across the floor, getting bigger and bigger until the tip of Gerard’ shoes were visible and he scooted closer to the wall. A small frame was illuminated from the light in the hallway as the door opened. 

“Gee?” Frank asked quietly. Gerard shut his eyes and felt the tears squeeze out anyway. He bowed his head as Frank walked in and shut the door behind him. Frank’s bones clicked as he kneeled down in front of Gee, otherwise silently. 

“Okay, I didn’t see you very well, so you could be a wild animal, I don’t know. But I’m hoping you’re Gee because I definitely prefer you to a giant fuckasaurus or whatever.” Gerard smiled sadly and looked up from his knees, eyeliner smeared and tears streaked with the black remnants.

“Hey,” Frank sighed, smiling simply. Smiling like Gerard still light up his life, even after everything that had happened. The kind of smile that you couldn’t expect from someone as young as a high schooler to give. Because it was a very loving look and love wasn’t for kids, or so they were always told. 

“Hi,” Gerard’s voice cracked. Frank watched him for a moment before he seemingly realized they weren’t dating anymore and sat back a little. He opened his mouth, but Gerard finally cut him off.

“I know that you don’t deserve me sitting here, crying my eyes out after everything I’ve done. All that shit I’ve said. I started a fucking war or whatever, but I didn’t want any of that. I don’t think you did either. And I’m-I’m here because I talked to some people-some girls-and I really, really fucked up. I freaked out, panicked, caused a riot over nothing because I didn’t know what I was doing, I still don’t know what I’m doing, and all I do know is that I was wrong.” 

Frank looked at him, blinking like he was trying to figure out just what Gerard was getting at. However, Gerard was making it all up as he went along, and to be quite frank, he didn't know what he was getting at. 

“I just wanted to say that after all this, after everything I’ve said, done, whatever. Even if I’ve fucked up so bad that life as we know it ceases to exist, that I still just want you to know that I am so extremely sorry for everything I’ve done. I’m…” he took a breath and looked Frank dead in the eyes. “Sorry.” 

Frank put a hand on Gerard’s cheek and smiled through what looked a little like tears to Gerard. Gerard looked away and stared at the floor, trying not to shake. 

“I forgive you. And I’m going to hug you now because I really want to kiss you but I don’t know if you’re okay with that, and I cannot get myself to fucking shut up so I’m just going to hug you now.” Gerard let Frank’s arms wrap around his back and he felt his own forehead fall into place on Frank’s shoulder while he continued to let tears pour down his cheeks and now onto Frank’s shirt too. 

“I don’t really know what this means for us right now, but-“

“I still love you,” Gerard broke in, pulling back. Frank blinked, completely speechless. Gerard wiped his nose on his sleeve and kept looking at Frank the way a wet kitten would look at a stranger. Hopeful of help, but afraid at the same time. 

“Thank fuck-“ Frank laughed, leaning in and smashing his lips onto Gerard’s. Both could feel the instant heat, similar to being set on fire, an experience neither of them knew personally, although Frank was pretty familiar with the sensation of lighting someone else on fire. Gerard leaned back onto the wall, Frank naturally sliding in between his legs and pull himself closer, all because Gerard’s hands were still wrapped around his cheeks. They kissed until Frank could taste salt in his mouth and Gerard was flat out shaking. 

“S-so… what now?” Gerard stuttered, sitting up a little whilst trying to make himself look like less of a completely mess. He pulled on his shirt and used it as a towel to dry some of the black smears off of his face. 

“I dunno,” Frank sounded a little shocked about the whole ordeal, and still a little breathless. Frank tried to sound nonchalant as he went about his ramblings. “We could movie, we could video games, we could sex, we could-“

“Wait,” Gerard said all of the sudden. “Go back.” Frank split into an ear to ear grin and fell right back on top of Gerard, who received him eagerly. Suddenly Frank was a whole lot happier about coming home early and not giving any indication that there was a need for anyone else to be home. Simply put, he was glad his parents weren’t home. 

~

“Ah- fuck,” Gerard whimpered, digging his nails into Frank’s shoulder. Frank reached down and pressed his lips onto Gerard, and swept some of Gerard’s sweaty hair out of his face. All was well and fine, Gerard was loving it, Frank was in heaven, until-

“Frank? Are you home? I mean, you’re probably home since you lit someone on fire, which was pretty cool I gotta say, but- Hey, where the fuck are you, man?” Pete yelled from upstairs. Frank’s first question was how Pete got in the house, since the door locked automatically, but what was more important was the very compromising situation he was in.

“Go away, Pete! I’m busy!” Frank shouted unconvincingly. Pete stopped for a second, and Frank was almost tricked into thinking that maybe Pete believed him. 

“Doing what?” Pete shouted. Gerard rolled his eyes and groaned. Frank shushed him and looked over his shoulder at the door again as Pete made his way down the stairs. Gerard made an urgent looking gesture at Frank who fumbled with his hands in return, half mouthing something and half growling. 

“I’m-“ Frank and Gerard made some more urgent hands gestures and growling at each other. “Doing homework!” Pete was silent for a split second, and Frank held his breath, as he was pretty sure Pete was right outside his door. 

Pete scoffed, “No you’re not, quit lying. I’m coming in.” And the door opened. 

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

“I TOLD YOU I WAS BUSY, GOD DAMN IT, PETE!” 

Gerard put his hand over his eyes and sighed. The two of them shouted for a few more seconds before Frank finally got Pete to leave, and Frank didn’t stop staring at his door until he heard the front door slam. 

“D’you think he’ll tell?” Frank turned back around and looked down at Gerard’s exposed body. 

“When does he not tell?” Gerard replied, snakily. Frank groaned and rolled his head back, now staring at the ceiling. 

“Good point,” he sighed. Gerard let the silence weigh in for a few moments before deciding what to do. Frank looked back down at him and leaned forward, pressing his nose into Gerard’s already slightly purple-ish neck. Gerard let him go for a few seconds before deciding it wasn’t worth it. 

“Sorry, I’ve kinda lost my appetite,” he sighed, sitting up on his elbows. 

“Appetite for what? Dick?” Frank mused light heartedly. 

“Shut the fuck up, Frank.”

They stared at each other for quite some time, whether it was because neither had anything to say from that point on, or that it was just quite so astonishing to find themselves in that spot again after the events of the week, was unclear. Frank wriggled his body a little and Gerard tried not to react to much to it.

“Do you really wanna stop or…” Frank trailed off.

“No,” Gerard smiled more than he actually spoke. 

Both silently agreed Friday would be interesting.


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prom!! The final day, the final lay ;) and so on.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry this took so long! I've had some pretty bad issues recently, but I hope to be back on track. Please let me know what you think!!
> 
> (Just in case:)
> 
> Brendon: Pricky  
> Ryan: Stoner McBoner  
> Spencer: Spenis  
> Dallon: The Purest Word Of God  
> Jon: Old man Jonnie  
> Patrick: The Star  
> Pete: Memelord1.0  
> Gerard: Get hard  
> Mikey: Candyman  
> Frank: Fronk  
> Ray: Sunshine  
> Tyler: burgerface  
> Josh: pink haired spook   
> Hayley: Hayl Satan  
> Lynn-z: The b00b  
> Meagan: eggan

The b00b: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN FRANK AND GERARD FUCKED LIKE YOU CANT JUST SAY THAT PETE

Memelord1.0: WELL MAYBE I FUCKING MEANT IT

Spenis: I WAS NOT AT ALL PREPARED TO HEAR THIS AT FIVE OCLOCK ON A THURSDAY

Old Man Jonnie: AND YOU THINK I WAS???

Candyman: IM DOING YOU ALL A FAVOR AND TELLING YOU ONE HUNDRED PERCENT PETE’S NOT LYING

Stoner McBoner: THAT’S SOME HARDCORE BETRAYL, MIKEY.

Candyman: I KNOW I KNOW

Sunshine: hey guys

Hayl Satan: RAY

The b00b: OH MY GOD RAY HI

Sunshine: hi lindsey

Lindsey physically recoiled from the text. Which made her feel a little more ballerina than a G.I. Joe, which was what she was generally going for. She closed her computer and picked up her little cell from her bedroom floor. Her long nails clicked against the screen as she dialed up the second number on her speed dial. The line hummed.

“Hey Pete,” Lindsey said as she munched on a Pita chip. Pete was silent on the line for a moment while her eerily slow crunches travelled into his ears. He thought it was pretty gross.

“Um… Yeah?” he asked quietly, whilst she could hear the typing of a keyboard, meaning Pete was still clearly on Skype, doing what he did best- Start up shit. She licked her fingers dramatically and stared at her mirror evilly, imagining the camera that would’ve been dead on her face if she had been in some shitty teen film.

“Pics or it didn’t happen,” she said cooly, feeling as though even the devil himself couldn’t tame her. Pete snorted from the other end of the line, which did nothing to tamper with her rapidly pulsating ego in her chest. 

“You think I took pics?” he laughed. “Of my boyfriends’ brother and his not-boyfriend screwing each other?” Lindsey crunched on a second Pita chip, which was much more intimidating in person than it was over the phone. Not to say the effect didn’t succeed.

“I know you did,” she chuckled menacingly. Pete sighed for a moment and went very quiet. The only noise that carried through the phone was the sound of Pete clicking his keypad. That meant possible recovery of the pics, and Lindsey might finally have a reason to take Pete off her shit-list. 

“Any chance Brendon took a dick pic? Any chance you might have it? I’d be willing to trade,” Pete bargained, but to no avail. Lindsey rolled onto her stomach and kicked her feet up in the air, really hiking up the whole cliche teen movie thing.

“Pete,” Lindsey’s voice got low and serious. If only she had some bubblegum to chalk it up just a little more. 

“You cant make requests like that, dude, I didn’t just-“

Lindsey waited.

“Yeah alright, fine, but I’m not group chatting them, I don’t want Mikey to have to see that,” Pete grumbled, and with a click and a few taps, Lindsey’s phone dinged. She pulled it away from her face just enough to see the text at the top of her screen.

“What a good boyfriend,” she muttered, giggling slightly. Her knees knocked the ground and her toes curled as she pushed herself up and leaned back on her bed. She only let the call go for a few seconds more, to hear Pete say,

“Shut up.”

But his voice was smiling, he was probably blushing too, she thought, and that gave Lindsey all the freedom she needed to use the picture. Pete didn’t care, so why should she?

***

“Hey Gee?” Frank asked, kicking back the last remains of blanket that covered him. Gerard grunted and yanked the blanket over him. It was just like old times, Frank got hot, stayed hot, Gee got cold and couldn’t get enough blankets. (Frank was his favorite blanket.)

“Why did you… why did you um…” he cleared his throat, which caused Gerard to shoot around. As time passed, something Gerard noticed was that when Frank got nervous, he stalled. Gerard turned over and pressed his fingers onto Frank’s cheek, but kept his head down. 

Frank took a breath and pushed out the words like it was physically causing him pain. “Why did Bert kiss you?” Gerard dropped his fingers and just barely remembered not to drop his jaw in shock. He tried to recover himself as best he could- he hadn’t known Frank had seen that. He hadn’t thought Frank would’ve even been in that hallway.

“It was friendly. That’s what he said.”

“Friendly kissing, huh,” Frank snorted, a little apathetically. “Well how about Patrick?” It seemed like Frank was trying to pick a fight. It felt like picking an old scab, one that was bound to bleed and sting. Gerard thought carefully about his next words. Frank pulled a little piece of hair off of his sticky forehead so he could look him in the eye when he spoke. 

“I was just trying to make you jealous,” Gerard sighed, giving in to the embarrassing truth. “Did it work?” 

Frank scoffed and pushed him aside. “You fucking wish.” Gerard pulled himself back onto the mattress and rolled onto Frank, giggling stupidly. He slowly fell still, greasy hair spilling everywhere. As he drifted off, too tired to continue on with that stressful conversation, he intertwined their hands, fingers falling into their slots. 

“I guess… I guess it just reminded me of when I was the rebound, and-“

“Frank, you were never the rebound,” Gerard cut in. Frank didn’t know what to say to that. To make Gerard feel better, he knew he should’ve said that he knew he was never the rebound, but wasn’t it bad to lie to your boyfriend? Or just in general?

Frank had genuinely thought he was the rebound for quite a long time when they first started dating, and it took him a solid month or so to realize that Gerard intended on keeping him around for more than just sex. That had been a happy day for the both of them. As cheesy and dumb as it made him feel, whenever he thought of the first time they made eye contact, it made him smile a little wider. It really did make him feel stupid, though. 

Gerard put his head back down and squeezed his hand gently when he realized Frank wasn’t going to reply. The stupid smile Frank had on his face made up for his lack of conversing, because Gerard knew it well. Not from Frank, but from himself. Whenever he thought of the first time they saw each other. 

Finally, after a long while of silence and slow breathing, Frank broke the silence. “You need to tell your mom that you’re here tonight. Or at least Mikey.” Gerard grunted, disinterested with that statement. Frank used his other hand that wasn’t clutching Gee’s fingers so tight that he may just break them in his sleep to pull open his eyelids. Gerard smiled back at him for a second before batting his hand away like a cat.

“Kiss my ass,” he grumbled sleepily, tightening his hold on Frank’s hand. He wasn’t going anywhere, or doing anything. Frank didn’t really get why he was so tired- It was mid-afternoon for fucks sake. It’s not like Gerard was going to sleep for the night, and Frank wasn’t really a napper unless he was in class. He would have to let it slide that one time, just for the sake of the moment.

“No thanks,” he replied, only so that he could feel Gerard smile on his chest. It was a beautiful feeling.

~

It occurred to Brendon that he had spent too much time staring at him phone and waiting for a response from people. It made him feel like an idiot, like he was just waiting for a reply from a person who was not any more special than he. To add to his list of self hatred, he was officially out of options to ask for prom. No girl would come within five feet of him, even if he had the nerve to give one the look. None of his friends were available, and he suckled that horrible thought like a salt lick. He frowned at his next thought.

Everyone had gotten together as a result of his search for a date. He had been able to get everyone else a date, but not himself. 

He felt more like a John Watson than a Sherlock Holmes. A Ron Weasley, not a Harry Potter. Not that either of those people were bad, they just weren't Brendon. Brendon began a debate with himself about the usefulness of side characters. Why would a hero need a best friend if he had himself? 

Brendon grabbed him computer from his bedside table and pulled up Netflix in one quick move. He’d executed that specific one countless times. Perhaps some Sherlock would up his fowl mood. He'd seen the episode a trillion times, so when John Watson came on screen for the first time, he knew every line, every detail like the back of his hand. He watched John meet an old friend, then meet Sherlock, and then he began to draw parallels. He felt safe when he could relate to things, and even a person as magnificent as Sherlock could be remnant of someone. He threw his computer off his chest and shot up, breathing quickly. 

The someone it reminded him of didn't have a date. Dallon had suggested it, he had suggested it to himself earlier on in the week, but he never ever had he thought twice about it. He felt too guilty about shutting him down before, and now Brendon could see that he wasn't afraid of hurting him again, he was scared of a Ryan hurting him. He knew he probably deserved it too, which scared him the most. 

Ryan. 

That's who he'd go with. 

~

“Good fucking morning to you,” Dallon grumbled and caught Brendon so off guard that he walked directly into the car and smashed his forehead on the roof instead of ducking to get in. That was gonna leave a bruise, thought Brendon, who really didn’t need any extra marks on his face for prom that night. 

“Yeah, uh,” Brendon stumbled on his words as he tenderly rubbed his throbbing forehead. “You too.” Dallon thrust the stick shift and the car zoomed out of the driveway and onto the street like a rocket. Brendon would’ve asked what he was all worked up over, but knowing almost everything about Dallon, he made an educated guess that it was probably Spencer’s fault in one way or the other. 

“Ready for prom?” Brendon opted away from asking anything that could put Dallon on a rant. His question seemed to occupy Dallon’s brain, judging from how his muscles instantly relaxed. He sighed and loosened his grip on the steering wheel, looking for the right words to say.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m pretty pissed at my date, but that doesn’t matter.” Dallon took a little breath and almost looked at Brendon, but either shame or the laws of driving kept him from giving Brendon his most pitiful glance. “Still no date?”

Brendon let his still aching head hit the headrest and sighed mournfully. Instead of replying with a simple yes or no, he stayed quiet and let the sound of his foot kicking his backpack do the talking. It was too painful for him to even think about. That was a major blow to his ego, even if it wasn’t necessarily his fault that none of his other friends could go with him.

“Are…” Brendon looked over when Dallon paused. “Are you going to ask Ryan? I think he’s your best bet, even considering what… happened. You know…” Brendon looked out his window at the passing houses that eventually disappeared and made way for the school zone. The car pulled into the parking lot, which was ordinary for the first time all week. 

“He’s still your friend, even though you two pretend to hate each other at school. I know he is. I think he’d be willing to go with you, even if it was as a friend.”

“Of course it’s as a friend!” Brendon snapped. Dallon gave him the Dad™ look as he turned off the car. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Dallon shrugged as he exited the car and locked it. Brendon followed at his heels like a little kid, with his thumbs tucked under the straps of his backpack and his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

The two waited on the front steps in the cold for a few moments, enjoying the silence between each other. When the bell rang, Brendon finally noticed Dallon’s evil little smile he had going. As hard as it was to lose Dallon in a crowd, for example, the hallway during passing period, it was equalling challenging to keep up with him, even for someone who was generally considered tall, such as Brendon was. 

“What’s that look supposed to mean?” Brendon asked, feeling unordinary tiny. “Don’t tell me you have another prank to play. That’s over. Over, Dallon.” As if on cue, Dallon spun around, nearly calling for a collision between the two. 

“No, Brendon. I’ve got this look going because you just confirmed that even if you two are just friends, you are going to ask him. And you can’t go back on it, because you already said it. I’m gonna hold you to it, Bren. Good luck.” And with that, he whirled off to class, leaving Brendon speechless in the hallway. 

~

Given any other circumstance, Brendon would’ve shouted something obscene and insanely rude, but there were just too many things stacked up that were in his way. First off, it was Dallon, and getting him pissed off again was not something anywhere near the zone that Brendon called fun. Secondly, prom was that night- enough said about that. Thirdly, he was probably going to be late to class if he didn’t get a move on, and his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a really good insult.

Bitterly, he turned around and speed walked to class. He bumped into nine people at the minimum, walked smack into the drinking fountain which hadn’t felt too good at all, and tripped over a desk on his way to his seat in Ms. Benoit’s room. Of course, the moment he sat down, he came up with the perfect god damn insult. Too late. 

The second bell rang and Ms. Benoit stood up, giving Brendon a smile for being on time for the second time that week. Brendon was pretty sure this was a new record. The early morning lecture began and Brendon’s head slid down his arm just like it did every morning. It didn’t matter if he had gotten loads of sleep, or woke up energized and nearly drove Dallon off the road (that only happened once), Brendon always got sleepy during Ms. Benoit’s first lecture of the morning. 

Clap! Brendon woke with a jolt, just as her lecture came to a carefully crafted close. She nodded, looking around the class proudly. She gave the double thumbs up and with that, Brendon shot up and dragged both his backpack and his chair over to the back corner, window side. It was a little quiet without Pete, something he should’ve noticed the day before, if he wasn’t so busy trying not to get Nair’d in the face or getting fed orange juice powder water. 

Before any decent conversation happened on its own, Lindsey grabbed the reigns and steered it in her direction. She and Meagan looked down over the few boys who looked a little scared by the two looming over them. 

“Just so you know, we’re doing makeup after school for anyone who wants some. It’s at Meagan’s house if you want to come. It’s okay if you don’t say anything, if you want it to be a surprise or whatever, just fyi. Jesus, you guys don’t have to look so green. I don’t want to rip your intestines from your ass every day,” Lindsey laughed. It would’ve been a whole lot less funny if Ms. Benoit hadn’t been standing directly behind her. Lindsey turned quite green herself when she noticed. 

There was dead silence when Ms. Benoit was done scolding her, not because it was awkward, no, that bit had been funny as hell, but because of the lingering thought of ‘What would happen next between the parents of East High? Should I bring it up?’ It seemed the prospect of talking about it was a lot easier imagined than actually done. There were a cold few minutes where no one said anything and everyone was thinking the same thing. Then something occurred to Brendon.

“I CAN GET BACK INTO DRAMA NOW! I CAN TAKE BACK MY THRONE! HOLY SHIT!” he screeched, pulling out his phone and instantly pulling up Skype before anyone could say anything. Slowly, one by one, everyone at his table started to clap. Thanks to Lindsey, naturally. By the time Brendon had announced this to the whole group chat, and everyone else in the room was clapping, something else occurred to him.

Ryan hadn’t said yes yet. Oh well. 

He was done with his whole stake out anyway. It had been a harsh couple of days for him. Since Brendon was back in lead of his friends again, his subjects (as he liked to call them) brought out their phones and the Skype chat was thriving in a matter of minutes. 

The Star: OH MY GO D THEY CAME TO SCHOOL TOGETHER 

The Star: I MEAN,, FRANK DIDN’T GET OUT OF THE CAR CAUSE HE’S SUSPENDED IG BUT HONESTLY!!!!???

The Star: PETE WASN’T LYING???? UM HOLY SHIT?????

Hayl Satan: YOU MEAN FRANK AD GERARD RIGHT

Pink Haired Spook: WHO THE HELL ELSE HAYLEY

Hayl Satan: hell-ley

Pink Haired Spook: ooh that’s a good one

Stoner McBoner: I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS BUT GOD IS REAL

Old man Jonnie: i gET MY FAMILY BACK

The b00b: MOM, DAD, WE MISSED YOU

Eggan: THE FAMILY IS BACK TOGETHER AGAIN

Memelord1.0: I TOLD YOU HOES

Stoner McBoner: THANK YOU GOD

Candyman: you guys had no fuking idea what my house was like. it was Hell

Pink Haired Spook: pretty sure Pete knows tho

Memelord1.0: hey josh how about SHUT UP

The Purest Word Of God: DOES ANYONE HAVE SOME PROOF FOR THOSE OF US WHO DON’T HAVE FIRST PERIOD WITH THEM?? I’M DYING OVER HERE AND I DONT EVEN CARE ABOUT ANY OF THIS

Spenis: OOH YEAH ANYONE GOT PICTURES

The b00b: HEY HOLD ON I GOT ONE THIS MORNING

Lindsey really had gotten one that morning- Gee sent it to her. She would’ve cried from happiness if she hadn’t already seen a different picture which, although aiding her with blackmail on Frank, it also held some things she’d rather not have seen. At all. Ever. 

She went into her camera and clicked on the picture. It was really quite cute and she did smile a little looking over it. It was simple, just a picture over Gee’s shoulder where Frank was passed out on the bed, face down. The corner of Gee’s smile was in the picture but only barely, and it made her warm inside to see him smile like that again. She would’ve savored it to herself for a few more seconds if there weren’t loads of people waiting for her on Skype. Just before she hit send, her phone turned off. 

“Shit!” she gasped, turning back on her phone and digging to find the picture again. Ms. Benoit started to talk again, so she ducked her hands under he table and clicked send from down there. While the teacher was mid-sentence, the loudest table in the class got ghostly silent. Even Ms. Benoit noticed it.

“Everything alright over there, kids?” she asked, looking up from her coffee mug. Lindsey gave her the thumbs up, not knowing herself what was wrong. Ms. Benoit went back to her coffee-inflated speech in peace, while Lindsey pulled open Skype to see what was the matter, assuming it was related to Skype. You never know. 

“Oh. Oh fuck.” Her hand hit her mouth so fast it felt like a slap in the face to her. That was… one hell of a reason for going silent. Brendon clicked off his phone and set it gently in his backpack. He slowly raised his hand, keeping his lips pursed in a fine line.

“Yes, Brendon?” Ms. Benoit asked when she finally looked up from the cup she was fondling.

“May I please go to the bathroom. I need to wash out my eyes.” The teacher gave the back table a look that was so horrified it was almost funny. Without a word to anyone, she looked back to Brendon nervously and nodded. He walked out slowly, but stared dead ahead like a zombie, completely transfixed and probably not hearing a drop of anything. 

Lindsey didn’t dare check her Skype, it was too painful. She felt not only guilty about sending it on accident, but she also sent it to the group specifically after Pete told her not to for Mikey’s sake. Mikey was one of her best friends, even if the two didn’t associate that much in public. However, she remained to be untainted by feelings and skipped over guilt surprisingly quickly and went straight to curiosity.

After not five minutes stoic, she reached back for her phone and went directly into the war zone.

Pricky: OH MY FUCKING GO D

Candyman: JE SU S

Memelord1.0: FUCK 

Memelord1.0: LINDSEY I TOLD YOU DAMN IT, SPARE THE BOY

Pink Haired Spook: WELL THERE’S ONLY ONE PERSON WHO COULD’VE TAKEN THAT

Hayl Satan: IM BLOCKING ALL OF YOU. FIRST TUESDAY NOW THIS IM D O N E

Pricky: MY EYE S

Fronk: i come back to THIS

Fronk: what the FUCK PETE

Old Man Jonnie has left the chat.

Hayl Satan has left the chat. 

Memelord1.0: iT WASN’T ME

Stoner McBoner: IT WAS LINDSEY CHRIST

Burgerface: I DIDNT WANT THIS EVER WHY DO I EVEN ASSOCIATE WITH YOU PEOPLE

The Star: PETE IM BLOCKING YOU IRL LINDSEY YOU TOO

Candyman: DIVORCE

Spenis: NOW PETE HAS SEEN BOTH OF THE WAYS’ NAKED WOW WHAT A WEEK

Spenis: NOW ALL WE NEED IS SMTH FROM MIKEY OVER HERE

Fronk: N O 

Pink Haired Spook: EVERYTHING IS AWFUL, NOTHING WILL EVER BE FINE, EVERYONE I LOVE IS DEAD AND IM DYING INSIDE

Pricky: WAIT UNTIL GERARD SEES THIS HOLY FUCK

Spenis: MIKEY KICKED ME AND GOT SENT OUT

Memelord1.0: SO SPENCER HOW ARE YOUR BRUISES CAUSE I FEEL LIKE YOU NEED SOME MORE

Eggan: WELL I AGREE

The Purest Word Of God: WHY CANT WE ALL GET ALONG

Stoner McBoner: FOR THE RECORD SPENCER ALSO GOT SENT OUT

Candyman: IM GONNA FUCKING BLEACH MY EYES

The b00b: BRENDON WENT TO WASH HIS EYES OUT IN THE BATHROOM. THE LOOK ON MS. BENOIT’S FACE

Memelord1.0: LITERALLY DIE LINDSEY 

Fronk: YEAH LINDSEY

No one said anything for a few seconds, and just like that, the heat of the moment wore off. Lindsey let her phone clatter to the table and sat back, pressing the back of her hand against her forehead. Her brow was warm and furrowed and she was not Loving It™. The classroom door opened and Brendon walked in, soaked from the top of his head to his shoulders, and not giving one shit about it. He casually walked to his seat, sat down and put his head in his hands, one big sopping mess. As eventful as the class had been so far, Ms. Benoit had said nothing, and intended to keep it that way as to avoid more trouble. Secretly, she thought it was stress from prom. If she only knew. 

Lindsey wasn’t sure she knew how to read at that point, as her paper looked blank and judgmental and she wasn’t ready for that sort of criticism. It came to her that she could delete the picture, but nearly everyone had seen it already and it was more than likely screen shotted by a few, so the endeavor would be worthless. She sighed again, trying to control her breathing which wasn’t working, as every time she looked up, she saw Brendon, wet and soggy, across from her, and the rest of the table with their heads in their hands or on the floor, collapsed. Bob was gone completely, and Lindsey was pretty sure he wasn’t even on the chat. 

Her phone buzzed and her eyes naturally darted to it, which she suddenly wished wasn’t a habit of hers. Her screen read:

Get Hard: whAT HAPPENED

It buzzed again.

Get Hard has left the chat.

“Fuck.”

~

Aside from the first class, Brendon’s day was… Not the most interesting one of his life. All his teachers seemed to either 1. forget about prom entirely, or 2. not give half a shit. He had quite the mound of homework by third and was more than a little relieved to get to run around for fifty minutes, even if it was as cold as Lindsey’s demeanor. Dallon didn’t appreciate it as much Brendon did, not by a long shot. 

When finally lunch came around, Brendon was not surprised at all to not see Lindsey at the table. He wasn’t surprised she wasn’t even in the room. She was probably on the roof or hiding under a bean bag in the library like Pete did or possibly even home. He didn’t know or care- his eyes paid the price she set. 

He sat down at the head of the table, and Dallon slapped him on the back intensely, causing him to nearly cough up a lung. Brendon pulled out his lunch and looked over the table proudly- back in his kingdom, right where he belonged. 

“Hey!” he yelped, looking around at the shackled remains of his kingdom. “Where’s Frank?” A few people shrugged, others cracked a smile to themselves. There was something Brendon was obviously missing, and who better to convert information about Frank than his boyfriend? Or… not boyfriend? Friend? Affair? Brendon wasn’t sure. 

“Suspended for lighting that dickhead on fire. Douchewheel deserved it,” he paused for a moment to chew rather than spew his lunch all over everyone. “He’s coming to the dance though. Not sure if that’s okay with Ms. Mann, but he’s coming.”

“Awww! Did he pinky promise you that?” Meagan cooed. Gerard shot her a nasty, nasty look and stuck his food covered tongue at her. She grimaced and turned back to her own lunch hastily. 

Lunch was about to fall into that silence that came when everyone was eating too feverishly to talk and there was just silence, and Brendon had to many things to say to be wasting time stupid stuff like eating. Before he could segue into a shitty joke he stole from Ryan or Tumblr or possibly even Harry Potter, the number one most wanted person in East High history walked in. 

Lindsey didn’t look afraid as she took her place at the table, hell, she didn’t even look nervous. She had a cocky smile on her face and an overly crunchy sandwich to piss everyone off further than ever before. A few people put their heads down before the shit hit the fan and others couldn’t keep their eyes off of Gerard. Josh pulled out tape and began to tape his eyes open. 

However, Gerard did nothing, said nothing, didn’t even look her way. Oh, Brendon thought. Silent treatment. He should’ve guessed that one. Bob swooped in, faster than a hawk, and proceeded to make everything worse, as he usually did, by engaging Lindsey in a conversation. People were acting too much like themselves, and it was getting a little frightening. Brendon could’ve made a list, but decided that took up too much brain power and he would much rather pay attention to Bob single-handedly summon Satan and place the demon directly into himself. That made for an interesting fantasy. 

“So Lindsey,” Bob started. Gerard didn’t so much as flinch. “About prom-“

“I swear to god if you ask me to prom right now, I will probably slit your throat,” Lindsey interjected. Brendon kind of wished that that’s what Bob was planning on doing, but Brendon knew better. In what ways did Bob make already tense moments worse? By invading personal space!

“No, I wash going to ask- dress or suit? I mean, you go both ways so, I figured that you’d be okay with both. Maybe even at the same time.” Add insulting to the list of things Bob was a little too good at. The look on Lindsey’s face was not detoured by the strip of lettuce dangling by her chin- if looks could kill, Bob would’ve been long dead. To be fair, so would Brendon. 

“Naked,” she spat. Bob looked almost surprised by her answer, and everyone seemed to find this unsettling and a tad amusing. People could’ve also been giggling at the fact that Josh had passed the tape to Tyler after completing his own do, and now Tyler was taping his own eyes open.

“Uh. Okay,” he stuttered, mind clearly racing to get back on track. Now that was funny, admitted Brendon to himself. Then Bob really caught him off guard. “ How about you, Ryan. Dress or suit?”

Brendon’s face reddened at the thought of Ryan in a dress, although he couldn’t really figure out why. He buried his nose in his lunch bag, pretending to be digging out something that was mashed at the bottom like his banana was. 

“Dress. How about one of yours, Bob?” Ryan replied cooly, and Brendon nearly choked. The sheer intensity of the smirk on Ryan’s face was not surpassed by anyone, and in that moment, Ryan’s words had a similar affect to a nuke being set off. 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!” It seemed everyone found this insult to be complete fire, while Brendon found a little dull. He could do better. Ryan’s smirk doubled into a blush and he looked down, biting his lip and fiddling with his thumbs.

Brendon smiled back even though no one was talking to him, no one was even looking at him. For the first time in his entire high school career, he realized that when Ryan smiles, he smiles. That intrusive thought didn’t concern him nearly as much as it could’ve. He may have even payed attention to it if he wasn’t so busy staring at Ryan’s red cheeks and twisty lips and the way he got a little teary when people gave him a lot of attention. 

“On the subject of Ryan, who’re you taking? I mean… you’re going, right?” Ryan took a moment to think and Brendon prepared to die a little inside. There was always the option that he’d opt out due to lack of a date and stay home like a loser. He was a loser. So was Brendon, to be fair. At least Ryan knew he was a loser. 

“Didn’t you and Pete have a thing that one time?” Patrick asked, taking a bite of his apple to be more of an asshole. Brendon’s head shot up in shock. He knew everything about Ryan, and this was threatening his reputation. He was very protective of Ryan, everyone knew it, no matter how much of an asshole he was. 

“We don't talk about that,” Ryan said, not looking up. He wasn’t ducking his head in shame, no, thought Brendon, he was purely disinterested in the topic, like it was old news. Suddenly, Brendon was pissed. He was totally and unmistakably irked and he could not figure out why. He packed up his lunch, and shoved it in his backpack. He needed a place to think about it- he knew himself too well and now he couldn’t figure something out. He knew his sexuality, his gender, his political orientation, his team on Pokemon Go, the sports team he rooted for, his favorite instrument, the list went on. Brendon knew everything about his friends too. They were predictable, it was simple as that. He knew their schedules, whether they were more likely to party, stay home, kill someone, or do homework on a Friday night, stuff like that. He was no Sherlock Holmes, but he was pretty witty when he had to be. 

He knew all his friends, but there were a few he knew a little better. He knew Hayley, just because they were close when he used to be quiet. He’d predicted her period once and she stopped talking to him for an entire month. Then there was Ryan, who he knew head to toe, which was no surprise. There was also Dallon, and he recalled the time that he’d correctly guessed that he and Spencer fucked with no context. He knew when Dallon first started crushing on Spencer, even though he never told Dallon he knew. Crushes were something he knew very well, not that he ever got them. He saw a girl he wanted to date and that was that, but it never lasted long. Crushing was different he remembered. He used to notice the little things, like their quirks. When they’d bite their lip when they smiled or the way their eyes sparkled or when they got shy or exuberant or-

“Oh fuck,” Brendon said, accidentally out loud. He knew a crush when he heard one. And he definitely had one. 

“Brendon, are you okay?” Ryan asked, snapping a finger in his direction. Brendon gulped and felt his heart beat quicken. He sincerely wished he’d realized his crush after he’d asked Ryan to prom. Brendon tried to think of a response but he just couldn’t think. It would’ve been cliche to think his mind was blank and his tongue was dry, and god knows Brendon was totally over being dramatic, so he sat himself back in his chair and tried to talk. It didn’t go so well. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking- Yeah, I mean- hey did you know Ryan keeps lube in his top drawer?” he stuttered. Ryan looked appalled, and only then did Brendon remember he’d already told his friends that neat fact. 

“Yeah, we know, Brendon,” Josh said, staring at Brendon like he was trying to read him. Josh was not nearly as good at that game as he was. Ryan held up a finger in response to Brendon’s uncoordinated outburst, but the conversation seemingly skipped over him. With that group of friends, there were no gaps in conversation on a normal basis, there were only awkward moments or silence that came with being a teenager, but no moments of pure silence where they simply enjoyed the nothingness in the air around them. Cafeteria air was disgusting anyway. 

Finally, Ryan was at his wits end and he was not ready for Brendon’s remark to go down as fact without a fight.

“Wait! What do you mean you fucking know?! Brendon? What did you tell them? Why are you spreading LIES about me?” Ryan hissed at him, obviously trying to pretend his statement was untrue. Brendon had him there. 

“Ryan, remember when I put on your perfume?” Dallon, along with everyone else at the table, figured this meant something to them, an obscure reference between friends that made absolutely no sense in any other context aside from their past experiences. 

Ryan went ghostly white.

He stuttered for a moment, trying to defend himself from the sound of it, before slouching over and sighing, “Yeah, okay, I got nothing.“ And there fell the natural teenage awkward silence. 

“Brendon,” Patrick began, scrolling through what looked like texts from Brendon’s angle. “What did you mean by your text? All you said was “Picnic @ snake pond.” No one had any idea what you were talking about.”

“I was that high?” he asked un-sarcastically. Ryan gave a little snort which Brendon tried not to pay too much attention to. His recent epiphany had caught him off guard, and he was well aware he would need some alone time to collect himself before he could figure out what was going on.

“WAIT, YOU MEANT THE PARK?” Spencer cut in, howling out his question like it was a necessity that the entire room heard him. “I THOUGHT YOU MEANT MEAGAN’S HOUSE!” He suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything at all. He looked up to get his fair share of the Meagan Stare that she gave when she disapproved, but she had completely vanished from her chair. Her sandwich was forgotten on its bag, her bag left right where she left it, or where she must’ve. 

There was a light tap on his shoulder which made him jump and feel like an idiot, but what really sealed the deal was how he turned around and Meagan slapped him quite harshly right across the face. If Brendon thought the sound effects made on account of Ryan’s burn earlier were loud, they were nothing in comparison to the reaction he got from that. 

Lunch was drawn to a close, and people slowly packed up their bags absentmindedly, as to not miss a single drop of conversation. For a while the table discussed Brendon’s return to his role as drama king, which Brendon couldn’t fully dive into a rant about because Ryan was smiling at him preciously. Brendon had never realized he used certain words to describe Ryan in his head, and now that all the truth was on his sleeve, he became aware of how long he’d had a crush and not done anything about it. His heart sunk considerably after that, because he was usually the one tormenting people about them asking their crushes out.

The conversation swayed here and there, and eventually the bell rang. Brendon got up alone, finally without the thoughts of Ryan in his mind. He’d gotten some clarity from the last few minutes with his friends. It hadn’t gotten him happy about what he was going to do, but it gave him a break from worrying about it. A little stress buster. The real kicker was that Brendon could’ve but still hadn’t asked Ryan to go to prom with him. He was just procrastinating and he knew it. 

A shout called above the other miscellaneous noises from the hall. Brendon turned just in time to see Gerard catch up. 

“Dude…” Gerard sighed. Brendon waited for him to continue his sentence but apparently he just ended it there. 

“Dude…?” Brendon replied, eyeing a girl in the hallway as they walked. She wrinkled her nose and turned away to her friends, her brown hair flipping like a slap in the face. Gerard sighed again, shoving some freshman out of their way. 

“I don’t have anything to wear to prom. I figured Frank wasn’t gonna ask, nor would I have said yes, probably.” Gerard avoided a tumble and kicked someone hard in the back of the shin. Like a tidal wave, all the worries of everyone came down over him, and he felt as blue as the water itself. He never once worried about Gerard not having a date until it aided him, he never worried about Pete and Mikey getting suspended from the dance and not getting to go, he hadn’t even cared about Ray when he got Nair’d. He only cared about himself. 

Brendon gulped back his feelings that were rising like the lump in his throat. He coughed and bit his lip hard to avoid letting his voice crack. Ah, the feeling of young love, Brendon thought spitefully. 

“Did Frank even ask you?” Brendon asked, clenching his jaw quite hard. Gerard scoffed and looped his fingers around the strap of his backpack dreamily.

“Yeah,” Gerard replied. Brendon would have been fine with that answer, but no, Gerard had to keep going and rub it in. “Yesterday. Pillow talk.” Brendon fought so very hard to hold back his eye roll. He had to be happy for Gee because it had been a hard week on all of them. Now that the parent couple was back together, all the problems should’ve been fixed, and two hours ago, he believed that. 

“Gross.” Brendon pretended to retch, by reaching back in his throat. Gerard laughed and shoved him away lightly. Brendon only nearly evaded wiping his slobbery hand on a freshmen. They laughed a little bit before he had to go out and make things weird again.

“At least your legs look good in a dress,” said Brendon playfully. Gerard looked at him so fast, it hurt Brendon’s neck just to witness. Brendon couldn’t make out the expressions on Gerard’s face, but he guessed it was a mix of confusion and shock.

“What?” they said at the same time. Gerard spluttered a little while Brendon tried to figure out what he said wrong. It took embarrassingly long for it to dawn on Brendon.

“Oh! Well, I figured you were going to wear a dress. That’s why I said that,” he clarified eventually. Some younger boys gave Gerard a weird look as the passed, and once they were behind the two, Brendon kicked one in the back of the shin and turned around very quickly, as though nothing had happened. Gerard hadn’t seen his move because he was too deep in thought apparently. When Gee got like that, he acted as though he were under water, in a submarine, far away from everyone and their bullshit. 

“Ya know? That’s not a bad idea… I hadn’t considered that.” Gerard looked at his shoes in thought, while Brendon just couldn’t picture why that thought hadn’t occurred to Gerard yet. Obviously, his first thought was simply that he was smarter, but the tail between his legs that had ‘Ryan’ tattooed on it said otherwise. 

“I think Frank would like it tremendously,” Brendon winked. He’d push it as far as he could before he got some back-lash, and Gerard wasn’t known for being particularly stretchy. He decided to quit while he was ahead.

“Hm,” Gerard seemingly finished off the conversation for good. 

“So who are you taking then? Did you ever get a date?” Gerard said, moments after the idea that Brendon may not be late to class passed through his mind. He made a mental strike on that margin. 

“Nah…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair after accidentally using a New York accent on his words. For a brief moment he wondered whether he should go on, but figured there was no harm in telling Gee. “But I’m gonna ask Ryan at some point, just haven't had the right time yet.” 

Gerard nearly screamed. When at last he could get out a proper sentence that wasn’t totally indecent, Brendon wiped the glare off his face and allowed him to speak.

“Aw, that’s so sweet! I really hope he says yes.” The taller boy smiled peacefully at Gerard because Gerard had treated him with the same kindness moments before. He hadn’t pulled a complete Pete and shrieked and run off with his Skype before Brendon could wring his throat. No, Gerard fangirled a little before composing himself and genuinely complimented Brendon, something he wasn’t as used to hearing from he friends as he ought to be. That lifted Brendon’s spirits a little.

“I’d let you have my hand, but I can’t. Sorry,” Gerard put out a pouty lip that made Brendon crack a smile. That lifted his spirits a little more. Enough, so that he was able to be civilized in his response. It was a rare moment. 

“It’s okay, but thank you. Hey, I gotta blast, but see you after school maybe? If you want a ride or you want me to drop you off at Lindsey’s crazy makeup death party, let me know.” He hadn’t thought too deeply upon the fact that Gerard had possibly no plan to go, even though Lindsey had mentioned it only a billion times at lunch. It could’ve been taken insensitively, but Gerard was much more lighthearted than that.

“Thanks, B,” he smiled as Brendon waved a goodbye and disappeared down the right hallway. Brendon’s spirits were significantly lifted by the time Gerard was completely out of sight. He never would have uttered the words that it was the reuniting of Frank and Gerard that put him in that wonderful mood, for that would have scarred his frail reputation. He thought it, though.

~

Brendon couldn’t catch a break. He made it through the class after lunch with a smile on his face and food in his stomach, but by the time that his last bloody class rolled around, he was ever so lucky as always. Lucky enough to have a beautiful boy by the name of Ryan Ross a few seats in front of him, where he could do the amount of staring that Ryan deserved. It was a harsh world that they all lived in, one where capitalism was abundant and pretty kids were seated in front of kids who just discovered they were crushing on said pretty kids and a world where Brendon wasn’t allowed to throw himself out the window because he was “sick and tired of drama” that he was supposedly “supposed to be directing, Brendon” where people were constantly bombarding him with “get a hold of yourself, Brendon”.

A dry ice breeze blew in from the cracks under the window and rustled Brendon out of his fever dream. No one noticed his eyes blink for the first time in around thirty minutes, which were drier than the Sahara. Lindsey would’ve suggested eye-drops so he could stare at Ryan for long periods of time and not get his eyes to dry, but he refused to take crushing advice from somehow who’d never gone on a date ever. He rubbed his teary eyes a few times with his sleeves before returning to staring at his beloved where he received a time stopping surprise. Looking back at him with a small smile and flushed cheeks was none other than Ryan, who instantly turned back around. Brendon looked at his paper so fast, his breathing not regulated, his heart beat breaking the speed limit, the sirens in his ears of an Ambulance was sure to be confined in soon. 

Ryan, from the desk ahead of him, read over the paper the beefy woman up front was reading aloud. It was good of her to do all the reading for him, since there was no way his eyes could pick up anything on that page. When he could see it, it blurred and spun like a spider weaving a web, but more often than not, he saw the look of shock and the colour that rose in Brendon’s cheeks when he had been noticed. He wasn’t foolish enough to turn back around just to see if Brendon was still watching him, not because he knew he was or wasn’t watching him, but because he didn’t want to know. He’d been so quick to settle into the news that Brendon, no matter how bisexual he was, had never dated any guy Ryan had known of, nor would he have had any interest in Ryan himself. When confronted with the option of having Ryan there for him and with him, he confirmed what Ryan had already set in stone. “No.” 

Now, as if this was suddenly supposed to be okay with him, Brendon was giving him attention. Giving him looks in class that didn’t mean anything, but made Ryan feel special, while Ryan wanted to feel as far away from special, and as far away from being in love with Brendon as he could. It seemed this just wasn’t the case anymore. For a moment, Ryan was angry with Brendon for being so self-revolving that the entire world would conform to his wants and needs as they appeared, like what Ryan felt was best for himself didn’t matter. He hated the prospect of that, because, well, Brendon was known for that sort of thing. A woe unlike any other fell upon him like a blanket as he suddenly enveloped upon the realization that after all that time, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Brendon for what he was doing, or what Ryan thought he was doing. There were no words he could shout, no messages to send, no indirect unkindness he hadn’t already shown because deep, deep down he knew.

He was still in love with Brendon. 

~~~

“I should’ve charged people for this,” Meagan scoffed, painting on a third layer of makeup on some girls’ face who was picking at her dress. Meagan had commented earlier, to herself, that “she hated that fucking tutu looking thing”. The girl flinched at this idea, quickly giving Meagan a look from under her face paint. Meagan made a deeply disturbing face back and stabbed her lightly with the eyeliner pen. 

“I would’ve, if I’d known so many people would show. You didn’t tell me you told to care bear squad,” Lindsey mocked, multitasking assigning people to seats and giving another member of the care bear squad the best eyeliner wing of her life.

“The what?” Meagan asked, shouting from the other side of the living room. Neither had quite the studio required for such an operation that was at hand. There were four girls on a couch for three, waiting their turn for the two to work their magic on their faces, which Meagan had already said were just fine as they were. Unsurprisingly, the girls hadn’t agreed. 

“Ya know, the care bear squad? Cheer squad and beer squad?” Lindsey replied, as if that was anything near a clarifying statement. However meaningless to Meagan, some of the patrons in the room found this comment a tad insensitive to their Botox egos. 

“Says you,” said one girl with hair so unnaturally blonde that it looked like the silk that was in corn husks. Lindsey rolled her eyes and kicked the door open before someone could knock, revealing a girl with eyes so wide someone was bound to ask if she’d seen a ghost. 

“Yeah, says me,” Lindsey fired back haphazardly. Corn hair crossed her arms, and looked at her nails from under where they were crossed. She looked back up at Lindsey with her mouth clenched in a supposedly fierce looking duck face. 

“Ugh, you’re just jealous that you can’t get any football players. Damn, you can’t get any dick at all. So, when are you two coming out?” Corn hair spit like it was fire. Her friends ooh’d and aah’d like it was a fucking magic show. Lindsey had her back turned and she couldn’t be sure, but she was fairly certain one girl touched her finger to her bum and then to her tongue and made a sizzling noise. When was it, 2004?

Meagan turned around to address Corn hair straight to her face, while Lindsey finished up the eyeliner and sent the other girl on her way, preparing to hear Meagan go on Brendon’s queer rights speech that he quoted in its entirety whenever someone called him gay to offend him. The whole thing was about three to five minutes long, depending on how pissed Brendon was. One time Lindsey had been lucky enough to hear the ten minute version during study hall. 

“I literally dated Pete for half a year you nimrod,” Meagan replied. Lindsey nearly put lipgloss in some poor girls’ eye because of her shock. There was a list of things she hadn’t expected to hear, and that was one of them. Corn hair seemed to take this as an acceptable response and shut her trap poshly, like she was too proud to even respond. Lindsey dreaded to think of what went on in her poor little brain. 

“Yeah, well. Which one of you broke it off, then? And isn’t he with that Michaela chick now? Were you too queer for him?” said some other girl with nails longer than her attention span. Firstly, Lindsey almost choked when the girl said Michaela, but more importantly, she had to defend her friend first. And what response came out first?

“If you don’t shut your mouth I’ll go over there and kiss you on it, and believe me, you’d fucking enjoy it, and then who’s the gay one?” Lindsey turned back to her ‘patient’ and upon second thought, she realized her snappy quip wasn’t as well thought out as it could have been. She mentally kicked herself before she could say one more word. 

~

“Gerard, sit still.”

“I can’t help it,” he replied, looking up at the ceiling and trying not to flinch. Lindsey tried to negotiate a compromise for his misbehavior. “Deal with it!” he yelped before she could come up with anything. Meagan and Hayley, who had now stopped working altogether, gasped in unison. They both started screaming at him like a mother, even though it was Lindsey who was his real Mom Friend™. She crossed her arms and gave him a look. 

“Geez, fine, I’m sorry. I’ll try to sit still, but it’s not easy,” he complained, looking back up at the ceiling. She leaned back in and began to adjust him until she could get the angle of her hand just right against his face. 

“There,” Lindsey calculated, holding the drippy black eyeliner so still and steady in her hand, she could’ve had a Masters in open heart surgery with that level of precision. Gerard sighed and tried to hold his tongue before any other insults came out about her poking his eye occasionally or him having to itch his nose. In the end, it would be worth it, he convinced himself. 

Brendon sat up on the newly deserted couch and clicked off his phone. Instagram was all ex-girlfriends and their glittery dresses with shiny new boyfriends to match. He didn’t say he missed it, but he sure missed something. He had hope that that ‘something’ could be filled by a nice little melody he was working out in his head. The guitar part had been written so long ago that he only hoped he still had the sheet music somewhere. If he wanted to have it ready in time, he really should’ve been going. 

“Hey Gee do you mind if I-“ he was going to say get going, but the creak of the front door shut him up. 

“RYAN! HI!” Hayley shrieked, hopping to her feet and pulling him inside. She instantly recoiled when she say the plethora of high school girls behind him, all ogling at the interior design that wasn’t even hers. Brendon’s internal monologue switched from leaving to holy shit maybe I should stay holy shit, holy shit. Maybe that song could wait just a few more minutes.

“I saw this cluster fuck coming towards your house, all worried about ringing the doorbell and stuff, and I figured you’d be dearly understaffed here, so I parked and came along to help out. I hope that’s okay,” she smiled sincerely and Brendon almost passed out on the spot. He needed a cold shower asap and he knew it. 

Needless to say, Lindsey was thrilled to have the extra staff to hurry along the process, but even with Ryan, Hayley, Meagan and herself, it still took an ungodly chunk of time. Brendon, who was proficient enough in the fine art of eyeliner and painting little birds on cheeks spent the whole time staring at Ryan while he worked. This worked out a little better than class, as Ryan was so focused on his work that he never looked up once. When his third girl was done, satisfied with the job done on her, he cracked his back and pulled out his phone, which Brendon hadn’t even noticed had been ringing.

Ryan excused himself from the room with a finger and walked down the hallway to the end of the corridor where he was alone and isolated. Brendon couldn’t think of a better time to ask Ryan to prom, so he hiked up his pants like an idiot and followed him down the hallway moments later. Ryan looked up at him and smiled, a quick oasis from the person who was rashly organizing a plan that probably wouldn’t work in the first place. 

“Hey Ry?” Brendon asked, trying up to the last minute to remember what courage and ego were. Ryan smiled up at him from the phone again, and lilted the phone away from his ear ever so slightly. Now Ryan was listening to him. And Brendon’s courage came flooding back.

He straightened his back, and with a smirk on his lips he asked, “Will you come to prom with me?” Ryan didn’t look shocked by this question, which raised a few eyebrows in Brendon’s mind, not that his brain could notice them over the sound of all the sirens screaming. He was suddenly, and rather rudely, aware of some screaming that was coming neither from himself or Ryan, but from the phone in Ryan’s palm, which now lay exactly in between the two. 

“Pete’s on the phone.” Ryan pulled off the exact Brendon™ face as he spoke those four fatal words. 

“HANG THE FUCK UP THEN!” Shit, was all Brendon could think. Ryan’s eyes were laughing before Brendon could hear his actual laughter, ring out like a bell in midday. Brendon couldn’t help but laugh back, tearing up, but not from laughter. Ryan didn’t need to know that. 

Ryan ended the call with a final chuckle and let his phone slide into his pocket where he rested his hands. Brendon was nervously wringing his behind his back, not letting Ryan onto the secret that he was just a little bit nervous, in fact. Because if Ryan knew he was nervous, something two friends wouldn’t feel around each other, that would be suspicious, and suspicion leads to unearthing things that don’t need to be unearthed, and that meant a whole lot of shit for Brendon. 

“Will you, then? Come with me?” he asked, temporarily drawing his mind away from his problems and putting on a smile that said their conversation was light and friendly. 

“Ugh,” Ryan groaned playfully, letting his head fall back so he could glare at the ceiling. Brendon didn’t catch onto the joke at first, and his heart skipped a beat in terror. Ryan looked back down at him with a crescent moon smile on his lips that shone as bright as the sun. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Brendon rolled his eyes and chuckled, walking down the hallway. “Pick you up at six?” he only turned back around briefly to ask. Ryan gave him a thumbs up that was more than a little awkward, combined with his pursed lips that were obviously holding back a smile. Brendon chuckled and turned back to the living room, where he waved goodbye at his friends and left curtly. Lindsey didn’t question it- she’d learned not to when Brendon and Ryan were involved. Things got messy.

Unless, of course, Lindsey thought as Ryan walked back into the room with the biggest grin on his face. Unless they were that kind of involved. Lindsey smiled at Ryan innocently, as he welcomed his next guest onto his operating chair. Lindsey watched him get to work, and while she watched she could only think, oh yeah. Things are gonna get messy.

~

East High prom wasn’t much of anything special to anyone. It wasn’t world renowned, no one outside of the state talked about it enviously, but there was something special about their school. Maybe it was the weird group of people that inhabited the school and gave it the vibe that it gave off. East High wasn’t special, but it never was the building aspect that gave other places its charm. All throughout Salt Lake City, girls were pulling on clothes, some in dresses that glittered as bright as the sun, some in suits slicker than a greaser’s hair. Boys put on their outfits, most in suits, except for Gerard. 

Black satin slid up his pale skin like a draft of wind, flaring up goosebumps in the frigid room. He looked up into his mirror and inspected his smoky eyes once more. They were pretty good, he had to say, since Lindsey had done them. She was more of an eyeliner gal, but she mad made the sacrifice for one of her best friends. 

“Lindsey!” Gerard called from the bathroom. He couldn’t quite reach the zipper in the back. There were footsteps for a moment, coming down to hall towards him, while he continuously looked at his own face. His hair was loosely hanging by his shoulders, straightened and brushed. 

“Mhm?” knocked Lindsey from outside the door. Gerard opened the door with one hand and held the dress up with the other. He didn’t need to say anything but shrug at her for her to understand. She twirled him around and zipped the dress of the back. It was quite tight, but upon a brief once over, he decided that he liked the look. He reasoned that the fishnets he was wearing made up for the length of the dress that went up surprisingly high on his thighs. He twirled a little, just to make sure he could still move around in it. 

“Holy shit you shaved!” she exclaimed, holding up his arm in shock. Gerard raised his eyebrow, pretending that he thought it was no big deal, but he knew it was a big deal. As awkward as it could’ve been, Lindsey reached down and felt his legs, which were also smooth as marble, Gerard pretending he was completely disinterested in her findings.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Gerard replied, twirling a strand of his hair around his black nails, which he’d redone for the dance. It was a big deal to Gerard, as shaving was quite the nuisance, and he didn’t understand why girls put themselves through that a few times a week, or however often girls did that sort of thing. Lindsey couldn’t tear her eyes away from he pair of silky smooth legs in front of her, so shocked that she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. His words finally registered with her brain. 

“No no no, you let me holy shit, Gerard Way,” she hissed back, giving his legs one last look. It still wasn’t as weird as it would’ve been with anyone else, because that was the kind of friendship that they had. After a moment of staring in the silence of her bathroom, she nodded impressively and stood up. She swung her arm around his shoulder and smiled at him in the mirror. 

“Isn’t this a little sexy?” Lindsey asked, leaning her head on his bare shoulder. He smiled sheepishly and tilted his head at himself in the mirror. He liked it good enough, good enough for a last minute buy. The straps were black and flat and crossed his chest like an X, looping around the back and attacked on both sides of the zipper. There was of course the fact that he didn’t have any boobs and that he’d pulled the dress in such a way that it didn’t matter, but no one would bring that up, and if it did happen for some reason, Frank would be there to sock said person in the jaw. 

“I think it’s neat,” he replied quietly, clenching and unfurling his toes from pure nervous energy. His reply came so fast that he didn’t have time to think about adjusting it an any way and risk fucking the whole thing up. Lindsey giggled and slapped him lightly on the back, messing up his hair a little bit just for style. He pushed her away and put his hand on his hip, joking around with the duck face. Lindsey shook her head, her long black hair shaking and walked away, giggling. He looked back at himself in the mirror, smoothing down the wrinkles in his dress and nodded to himself courageously.

This was it for him, the big night. He tried not to think about how sad he’d been a day ago, how broken, and how it only took a little for him to go crawling back. In all fairness, Gerard had been wrong, but he felt that just maybe he was a little too easy. And now? He was dressing up like the Queen of England. He sighed and ran a hand through his significantly less greasy hair. It is what it is, he thought as he exited the bathroom. The few girls left in the chairs gasped at his look, and sent glances to each other. Gerard looked nervously to Lindsey, who spoke the language of girls. She winked at him supportively. That was good for him. Lindsey had set down the rules for drag that the girls had set in place many generations ago.

You can look as good as you want, but you can’t look better than the Queen Bee. Sort of like a wedding. 

As Gerard walked to his car alone, holding his fur coat close to his stomach for warmth. It wasn’t really his- he’d taken it from his mother’s closet. His heels of his thick black pumps with the red linings clicked against the cement as he walked to his car, trying to slow his breathing. Less than one hour away from the best or worst night of his life. He still wasn’t positive on how the evening would turn around, thank to the week from hell that everyone endured. He sat in the driver’s seat of the car, no heat or vibration from the engine, just thinking for a long while. It is what it is.

Isn’t it?

~

As with many other siblings, the Way’s tended to take different sides on arguments, act differently, say things in ways that were directly attacking the other. In short, they were nowhere near being the same person. While Gerard was having a mini-crisis, Mikey was pulling on a suit at his boyfriend’s house, who was sitting in the corner in his underwear, scrolling through Instagram. 

“Prom is soon, Pete. Get a fucking move on.” Mikey threw a sock in his general direction, a sock that could’ve just as likely been Pete’s or his own. Each lived at each other’s houses half the time, so it was pretty hard to tell. It was a shocker that no one had figured them out before Wednesday. 

“I don’t wanna! I’m tired, Mikes,” Pete grumbled, dropping his phone onto his chest and slouching down farther on his beanbag. Mikey said nothing while he continued to be frustrated at his tie. He was rubbish at tying them, and with Pete being as useful as a sponge, he was left to struggle on his own. 

“Besides,” Pete continued, looking Mikey up and down and biting his lip suggestively. “I like watching you dress. Particularly the way dress up in a suit.” Mikey glared at him, because he couldn’t tell if Pete was mocking him for not being able to figure out his tie, or just being promiscuous. Either option warranted a glare. 

“Don’t just fucking sit there. Help me, please. This tie is killing me,” Mikey grumbled, giving up on his tie once and for all. Pete stared him down for a moment, debating his options. Mikey clenched his jaw, signaling that his patience was up. Just like that, Pete flew up to his feet and padded over softly on the carpet. 

“Fine,” he mumbled, grabbing both ends of the tie and working them around his neck in a neat fashion. Both tried their very bests not to look at each other, because then they would blush and it would get awkward because everything including the both of them was awkward. Pete pulled on one side of the tie, making it nice and tight and extra neat and took a step back. 

“Did you manage not to cum all over my tie?” Mikey asked, roughly translating to ‘does it look okay?’ Pete smiled an off centered smile and nodded in approval. 

“Actually wait-“ he walked forward again and yanked on the tie so hard that Mikey’s face came smashing into his, which, Mikey realized, upon further examination, was probably the point. Mikey wrestled Pete for a moment, trying to get a good grip around him before Pete ran out of patience and bowled him over onto the bed. Mikey was out of his suit coat in a millisecond, but his tie was more of an issue. He, for one, did not know how to work it at all, and Pete was a little too preoccupied to worry about that, despite the fact it was cutting off Mikey’s air supply and he was not down for choking at all. Mikey managed to finally get his attention by kneeing him in the dick. 

“Untie me. Now,” Mikey commanded while also pulling down Pete’s boxers. It was a bit of a struggle, as Pete only had one arm to untie Mikey because the other one was holding him up. At long last, Pete finally received Mikey of his chains and threw it as hard as he could at the wall, whilst resuming kissing his boyfriend. 

“Kinda redundant for you to get dressed, right?” Pete laughed in between sticking his tongue down Mikey’s throat and Mikey sticking his own tongue down Pete’s throat. There came a moment of silence where Mikey waited for Pete to take back his stupid quip. 

“God, fine, okay, just let’s get going, m’kay?” he apologized. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have something better to be doing?” Mikey replied, scooting out from under Pete. The other boy ate his own words so quickly, it was like he never even said them. There was only one thing left for Pete to eat. Mikey was all for that part.

~

“MOM WHERE IS MY TIE?” Brendon screeched, pulling his mouth away from the phone as not to blow Dallon’s ear drums out of his head. That came later, at the dance. In person. His mother responded with what was basically a verbal shrug, and he was left to dig through his room alone. He put Dallon on speaker while he dug through his drawers like a mad man.

“You don’t need to panic, you’ll look fine, Brendon. You always do, and you know it. This week has been very stressful, so maybe take a moment to reflect on it,” Dallon spoke soothing words over the line while he fastened his bowtie in his own room, many blocks away. He was far enough away that Brendon couldn’t hurt him no matter what he said. That comforted him. Brendon rolled his eyes so hard that his headache magnified by a trillion. 

“DALLON, YOU’RE NOT MY MOM!” He secretly liked Dallon’s words of calmness and peace. They did help him calm down, and moments later, an “Aha!” could be heard as Brendon picked up his tie from where it was strung over his bed side lamp. He tiredly tied up his tie while his mind spun faster than the orbit of the Earth. The next task would be to find his suit coat, which was probably hidden even deeper in the garbage heap that was his bedroom. 

“Besides, Brendon, we’ll still be going to prom next year! We’re only Juniors, and next years’ will be even better. Think of this year like a practice round.” The tail end of his sentence was muffled by a shirt that was flung over his phone, while Brendon dug through clothes like an animal. 

“I’M A VERY COMPETITIVE PERSON!” he screeched. Dallon chuckled and pulled on a regular jacket. He agreed with what he’d said- that year was just a practice and there was no need to be overly freaked out. A shirt tucked in, with a night sky blue bowtie and maybe a vest, if decided to go down that route, was all he needed to feel nice. Next year would be a different story.

“I noticed,” he chuckled. His laugh, a sound that was so calming, made Brendon stand up straight and take a breath. It was just enough time for him to recollect himself before he buried him mind back into his evening plans. Dallon glanced a final time at his mirror, looking for any minor imperfections, before he picked up his phone and delivered some devastating news. 

“Hey, B? I gotta go pick up Spencer, since I’m pretty sure he has some…” Dallon didn’t really know what to say, because you never did know what to expect with Spencer. “Some plans-“ he was cut off, because Brendon had known that Dallon couldn’t say the words out loud, and had started shrieking before any words came to mind.

“GET SOME DALLON! DON’T FORGET TO BRUSH YOUR HAIR AFTERWARDS AND BRING DEODORANT!” Dallon jumped back at how loud Brendon suddenly was. He felt like he was being shouted at face to face, not over a telephone. Brendon was weird like that.

“Yeah, okay, thanks Brendon, you don’t need to act as the entire group chat solely. Furthermore, that’s not what I meant. He said he wanted to hang out with me for a little bit before prom, is all. I got all dressed up just now, so there’s no reason for you to think anything that you don’t need to be thinking, okay?” he hissed, blushing because he was ninety percent sure all of his relatives in his house had heard that. He lowered the volume as fast as he could in case of another Brendon outburst. 

“That’s the nicest way of saying fuck off that I’ve ever heard,” Brendon cracked. Dallon opened his mouth to retaliate, but he was smiling too widely to think of anything mean to say back. He sighed and leaned back towards the speaker one last time.

“Bye Brendon. See you at the dance. I hate you.” He ended the call, smiling more than he’d ever give Brendon the satisfaction of knowing. Before he ran out the door with his coat, he leaned back in front of the mirror and ruffled his hair. You never did know with Spencer, after all.

***

Even if Dallon was doing just fine, getting some with his boyfriend, having a grand old time at prom with his friends and not having to worry about anything at all, that did not imply in any way that Brendon was feeling the same. His neck tie thing was fastened around his neck, symmetrical for once. His jacket was on his bed, ready to go while he fussed over his face in the mirror. There were countless bruises from the beatdowns he’d gotten for being a complete shit head, and there was the fresh one on his forehead where he’d run into Dallon’s car that morning. 

“I look like a moldy orange,” he grumbled to himself, trying to smash the bruise into oblivion. It wasn’t working. 

“You look wonderful, sweetie,” his mother cooed from his doorway. He jumped around, startled, even when he should’ve seen her reflection in his mirror. Brendon blushed and made a box around his face, capturing what really mattered. His mother smiled proudly, and a little pitifully, and opened her arms for a hug. He practically fell on her, which didn’t crush the little lady as much as it could’ve. She’d gained strength since he decided he was never too big to flop on her. 

“I’m so proud of you for finally asking that boy out. He deserves you,” she smiled, squeezing him like a toddler squeezing an animal. With no regard for the safety of that animal. Brendon nearly felt a lung burst. 

She released him, but before he could (sadly) clarify that he had not asked the boy out, his mother remembered why she came for him. She clapped her hands down on his shoulders supportively and put on her best smile. 

“Picture time! It’s almost six and you don’t wanna be late! You’ve gotta make a good impression, since you’re bringing this boy to prom with you!” she exclaimed as she skipped down the stairs. There were too many things for Brendon to say, too many snarky responses or faces to make that he nearly ran out of time to shout something back. Nearly.

“He lives next door, mom! I’m not going to be late!” 

“You never know!” she shouted back from downstairs. Brendon waited a moment, to see if she would leave him alone. Her face reappeared by the bottom of the stairs, hands on hips in the disappointed and impatient motherly way. Brendon waved her off, the ‘one moment’ wave, and diapered back into his room. 

The door closed, cold against his back that was warmer than normal. His face was turning red from nervousness as well, and his hands shook. Everything that had stressed him all week was coming to a crescendo, and he had to make it through a few final hours before he could finally, finally, relax. The wait would be worth it, he decided, as he picked up his guitar case and walked down the stairs. 

~

Brendon loved pictures, but not these pictures. He hated those ones. 

~

After a long, solitary walk next door, with his guitar stowed in his trunk where Ryan would not see it because Ryan was as unobservant as a lamp post when he got nervous, and who wouldn’t be nervous, reasoned Brendon. With one hand still in his pocket, he walked down the path to the backyard, through the Ross’s gate and into their yard, which was surprisingly green. He picked up a pebble and tossed it at Ryan’s window as hard as he could. It didn’t break the window, and Brendon was secretly disappointed. He threw a few more, until Ryan was bound to get that Brendon was waiting for him, and Brendon walked back out front. 

Ryan was fluent enough in Brendon’s everlasting bullshit to get the memo. Just as Brendon was beginning to worry that Ryan was losing his touch, the front door opened. 

“Hey, Ryan,” Brendon smiled, tucking one hand behind him back. Ryan emerged shyly from the door, illuminated like an angel walking down the stairway from heaven. Brendon, who was stood down on the path before the stairs, suddenly came to from his hallucination. The light fell around him, everything behind him bright but him clouded by the setting sun. Ryan slowly stepped down the stairs, so slowly that his footprints could barely be heard. 

“Ryan you look…” he fought back the word beautiful, even though it was the truth. In the light of the dying sunset and the street lamps that had barely turned on, the pink light fell upon his already rosy cheeks like a subtle blush. His hair curled naturally at the edges, and the black flowers on his vest shone like obsidian. Despite how Ryan decided not to let Lindsey apply her finest work to him too, he still had a faint trace of blue eyeshadow on his eyelids. It glowed like moonlight, which Brendon guessed was the point. 

“Not too bad yourself,” Ryan smiled a lopsided grin and looked Brendon up and down, and suddenly Brendon wished that he’d worn skinny jeans. It was true however, Brendon looked quite spiffy. He had a black tie and a suit coat that was as black as a midnight sun, while his hair was pulled up into a quiff, a style he’d never tried before. If he didn’t like it, he’d stashed a hair brush in the glove compartment. 

“Your hair looks different,” Ryan mumbled, poking it lightly. Brendon tried not to squirm both internally and externally when Ryan touched him. It was a nervous habit he had to control in times of need, but his heart beat was cooperating. He took a deep breath, disguised as a sigh, and held out his arm to escort Ryan to his car. Neither were the least bit confused by the lack of speaking, because the internal screaming in their ears made it pretty hard for them to hear much of anything. 

The car ride was quiet for a few moments before Brendon clicked on the stereo and started singing along to a song that his brain couldn’t remember the title of. He was obviously cueing Ryan to join in, but the older boy would have none of that. After elementary school, singing was squished out of his mind, no matter how good he was. Brendon, on the other hand, was quite the character. 

“That’s quite the bruise you’ve got,” Ryan commented. Brendon looked up briefly into his mirror, where he did have quite a purple bruise on his forehead. He didn’t own any concealer, so all attempts were worthless anyhow. 

“Thanks for noticing,” he said instead, grimacing at his lameness. Ryan looked out his window at the sun that was millimeters from hitting the roof of the nearest house. The sky was a little ahead of itself, pinks and purples askew despite it only being a little after six. Both waited for the other to say something, but no such sound came. Eventually Brendon could stand it no more.

He lightly pushed Ryan with one hand on the wheel and cranked up the music. 

“SING!” he shouted over the music. Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but Brendon held up a finger. “CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Brendon didn’t look away until Ryan did, which resulted in the almost murder of a trash can. Brendon was so persuasive and continuous that it got to the point where Ryan wasn’t sure what was louder: the radio or Brendon. Either way, he sure as hell couldn’t be heard, and the song was a good one. 

Brendon pretended he couldn’t hear his friend singing, because if he recognized the noise, he’d stop singing to hear more, and then Ryan would stop. Instead of becoming infatuated int he logistics of what ‘love‘ truly is, Brendon lost himself in thought and drove. 

He knew exactly where he was going, and got there on time, but still, he got completely lost along the way. 

***

Parking lot. Freezing fingers. Painted stars. Let it all soak in. 

Brendon locked arms with Ryan, more to support himself than his friend. He couldn’t quite get the hang of walking, with his heart being a spaz, beating out of turn. It made too much noise, so much he couldn’t hear Ryan’s humming or his own thoughts. Perhaps it was a case of the jitters, maybe it was love. Either way, he barely felt it when he tripped and fell. Ryan pulled him back up, so they were eye to eye and blushing. Ryan looked away before Brendon got any nerve, and the two were walking again. 

Every twitch got flushed out of his head when he walked through the shiny front doors. 

“Holy crap,” Brendon whispered, arm in arm with Ryan as they toed into the room. The scene before made him completely forget about how nervous he was to be basically holding Ryan’s hand. It was in the gym, where you could seemingly only do so much to make it look like a castle. It looked like the prom squad, as they like to be called, had gone all out. He heat of all the bodies moving around felt a little bit like a heat lamp, but Brendon smiled like there was nothing in the world that could be at all evil. 

There were ‘drapes’ hung over the windows, really on strips of maroon felt, but they made the sunset light stop dead at the glass. Inside was a mix of colored lamps with their filters new, aimed at a disco ball, spinning like it was on its last legs in life. It’s little dots shone around the room, like blood spatter on the walls, ceiling, all the people below. As his eyes swept the room, looking for someone he knew closely, his gaze landed upon Ryan, who looked like he was about to breakdown. He was trying to hold back tears so desperately, but everything looked so beautiful. Such a deserved ending for a hellish week.

Before they knew they were moving, they found themselves amidst the crowd, clinging to each other’s sleeves for dear life. Bleachers were pulled up on the sides, with just a few benches left to wallow on. There was a large table at the end, with food and drinks, all lacking alcohol, making them useless to the kids. As if by magic, Brendon suddenly felt completely famished, completely ignoring the dinner he’d had before he departed. 

His eyes stopped at a certain spot by the table, and it took him a minute to figure out why. Lindsey, he saw, Lindsey. She was wearing a plaid skirt, a black button up shirt with an even darker vest and blood red tie. Her hair was pulled into two pigtails that were curled so well it was hard to tell whether she’d done them or if she’d gotten them done at a salon. Adding to her look, she had knee high black heeled boots with roses on the sides. As obscure as it was, it looked good, and it looked even better on her. 

“THIS SHIT!” she yelped gladly, throwing her hands out at the scene as she jogged towards them. Brendon nodded in agreement, dropping Ryan’s arm before he did anything stupid. The three let the words hang in the air, there being nothing better that any could say. Ryan wandered off, to some obsolete corner where he could take it all in before he could even talk. Brendon saw him go, but clung to Lindsey because he didn’t know what to do, possibly for the first time in his life. 

She noticed his wordlessness and dragged him off towards the food table, where she wouldn’t have to deal with him being silent any longer. Before she could drop him off, she spotted someone from the cheer squad. An opportunity to pull toilet paper out of her bra in front of her boyfriend, an opportunity for some good old fashioned fun. That left Brendon in the middle of the room, alone, and not functioning properly. 

His anxiety swooped down on him, a feeling he’d gotten used to not feeling. He’d gotten courageous as he’d gotten popular, and it never occurred to him that he’d ever be alone again. He began to think, something he didn’t like doing. Maybe that was the reason that the week had been hell on Earth for him. Deep down, all his insecurities were there, but the question was, how deep. Had be buried them far enough down? 

Just before he had to go to the bathroom to talk to himself in the mirror until he had the courage to go out again, he spotted a savior, just entering the room. The two locked eyes immediately, like they had homing beacons on each other. The look on Brendon’s face, which looked much thinner and paler in the light of the gym, said more than words ever could. It was like his thoughts made a cameo in his eyes and lips, so scared and innocent. Dallon cursed internally, and pecked Spencer on the cheek before rushing over to Brendon. 

“Hey, are you okay? Brendon?” he asked gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. Brendon looked up suddenly, as if he’d never noticed Dallon walking over. It must’ve slipped his mind. Dallon looked down at him earnestly, still waiting for a reply.

“What? Oh, yeah. Totally,” he said, taping on a smile. Dallon pursed his lips, disappointed that Brendon thought he could get away with lying to his face. So many times they’d been over that, and still… It only took a few more seconds of that shaming mother look for Brendon to crack.

“No…” Dallon dropped the act and pulled Brendon into a hug. Spencer eyed the two from the other side of the room, where he was chatting with some of his less strange friends. Dallon was a good boyfriend, an even better friend, but Spencer was overprotective, and so he stood there, sipping punch while narrowly staring down the two. From that far away, he couldn’t see the whites of Brendon’s eyes, which were glassy with tears. He refused to let the tears drop as Dallon held him tight, whispering continuously that everything would be okay. 

Brendon couldn’t figure out why he was crying. There was an element of nervousness from having to deal with Ryan like that, and then there was what he was planning for later, and all the emotions from his week built up and he was left broken. He let his chest heave once before he figured he ought to pull himself together. Either Ryan or Spencer would’ve noticed by then, and he did, and he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. He’d already told Ryan that’s he’d rather bring Dallon than him, which probably hurt Ryan as much as it was hurting Brendon to remember then. 

“Dallon, I have something to tell you.” Brendon took a deep breath and hummed for a second until he got his voice back. Each time he thought he was good to go, he opened his mouth but nothing came out. No sound, only air, and he shut his mouth again, trying to suppress the lump in his throat. Dallon smiled sadly at Brendon and put a hand on his shoulder again. 

“He loves you too, Brendon,” Dallon whispered, squeezing his shoulder. Brendon squeaked, his mouth clamped shut in shock. Dallon clapped his hand down once more before twirling away, a little more smoothly than Brendon would have through possible of that old man. His guts twisted and he wiped his eyes shyly. No one needed to see him like that, he thought sadly. 

“Brendon, are you okay?” Ryan asked, making him jump in surprise. Right off the bat, Brendon nearly told him how much of a nervous wreck he was, but, thank God, the lump in his throat caught it for him. Slipping back behind his barrier of self esteem that hid his real emotions, he smirked and nodded, grabbing a pizza bagel from the table and shoving the whole thing in his mouth to keep him from saying anything stupid. 

Ryan snorted and shook his head, “You’re fine.” Brendon internally sighed in relief. He was a little disappointed that his friend couldn’t tell he was lying, but it was better than Ryan asking him again what was wrong. It was only a matter of time. Ryan grabbed his hand with a small smile. For a moment, Brendon’s heart halted and he stared at Ryan. Everything stopped and he watched Ryan’s eyes glued to his lips and he shut his eyes lightly. A jerk made him open them. Ryan was pulling him over to their group of friends, which was slowly increasing in mass as more people arrived. He swallowed the last bit of pizza bagel and shook his head. He had to pull himself together, which seemed increasingly unlikely until Ryan’s fingers left his. 

“Hey, Ryan!” Hayley greeted, pulling him into a hug. Brendon hadn’t realized the two were close, or at least, not that close. It was like the reunion of the quiet and sassy club. Brendon snorted at that thought, while absentmindedly giving Hayley his death glare. Hayley only then noticed Brendon, where she then backed up immediately, smirking knowingly. Brendon growled. She didn't know anything, so he seethed in silence. 

While Brendon found himself occupied with being over protective, Dallon waddled over to Spencer quietly, sighing to himself, which Spencer just so coincidentally heard. He wrapped an arm around the taller boy, which was uncomfortable as hell and his arm would surely be numb in a matter of minutes, but he didn’t care. Dallon tried to pull himself together and join the conversation, but something was clearly nagging at him. So much, that he didn’t even but in when someone used incorrect grammar.

Spencer noticed soon enough and pulled the lost looking kid away from the plethora of people and into a more calm and collected space. The hallway. It was dimmer than usual, quiet too, only one couple making out behind lockers, and a whole lot cleaner. Spencer put a hand to Dallon’s cheek when he remained quiet even after the change of scenery. 

Dallon sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Maybe I can outrun his bullshit,” he whispered. There was no doubt who he was walking about.

“I don’t think you can, Dal,” Spencer replied, not very supportive, but true. 

“I’m pretty fast.”

Spencer chuckled and smiled at him sadly. He wanted to crack a joke, because something like that usually worked with Dallon. Spencer wasn’t the person to get caught up in anything, to get lost because of all the stress, or anything of the sort, but he was the sort of compassionate person who knew where to draw the line. 

“Brendon will sort his shit out eventually,” he sighed. “And it’s okay to feel bad and to try and help, but he really needs to work it out on his own for now. You and I know that, so let’s forget about him for now, okay? C’mon, those guys made some pretty serious grammatical errors and you said nothing. I think they need their come-uppings.” 

Dallon reached down and pulled Spencer into a hug and smiled shyly. Sometimes he forgot why he was going out with a notorious prankster asshole who puts mugs in his back pack and super glues his locker shut, but those sometimes always get followed up by an ‘oh yeah, that’s why’ moment. That was an especially good one. 

***

The boys found the time to return to the group which was chatting pleasantly, feasting, and throwing shit around just for the fun of it. Lindsey sat in the back, looking like she was working up an evil plan. She probably was. 

“Good of you two to join us,” Meagan smiled politely. Spencer scoffed at her, knowing damn well that was her way of being suggestive. Politeness meant something extra coming from Meagan, being that she was only ever polite to be an asshole. The irony was not lost on her.

“Don’t get the wrong idea.” By the looks on their faces, a few people had already gone there and back. Their friends were a wild ride. While Spencer took up a heated yet friendly conversation with Meagan, Dallon amused himself by sitting on a table, which put him up very high indeed, and gazing down upon their friends. He collected scraps and broken tail ends of conversations, which all in all sounded pretty awful. But it was the buzz of the crowd, the dance music playing from far off, the dying sunset streaming through the openings in the drapes, and the colors splattered all across the floor that made it all work. It all felt right.

With all of the sights to see and voices to hear, it was a real surprise that Dallon looked up when he spotted something unusual from the corner of his eye. Usually, he would’ve ignored it and gone on filling himself up with happiness, but there was something so attention grabbing about the sight he saw. As ‘the sight’ came closer, he physically stumbled in shock and fell off the table. Even though Spencer wanted desperately to see what all his friends were staring at, he helped Dallon up first because not being single was a feeling he could get used to. 

The sight gained more and more attention as it drew nearer, and no one could say for sure if that was a good thing or not. When finally the final blockade cleared and the sight was revealed, Pete didn’t get the kind of reaction he was hoping for, but he’d settled for worse. 

No one said a word. As casually as ever, Pete and Mikey strolled into the vicinity, without a care in the world. Patrick downed his whole cup of punch and walked away, nearly smashing into the wall. A few began to believe there was something in the drinks after all, but that was not his concern at that moment because of the more pressing issue of when the fuck did Pete bleach his fucking hair??? 

Josh, who was finally walking over to the group after doing god knows what, screamed and clapped a hand to his mouth. He looked around for answers, but no one was able to supply any. This was quite often the case.

“Looking lovely as ever, Josh,” Pete smirked, basking in the attention he was receiving. Josh shrieked again, this time staggering a moment before seating himself where Patrick had been before his sudden disappearance. 

“Not sure I can say the same for you,” Meagan hissed from somewhere in the back corner. Pete’s smile dropped off his face and he scowled in her general direction. A smirk appeared on Brendon’s lips in anticipation for the fight of a lifetime.

“How the fuck did I fake date you for so long?” he snapped, to which Meagan reared the fuck up, but was so unfortunately cut off by Patrick who reappeared over by Gerard and Josh. Poor old Josh had mistakenly thought he was the only one to dye his hair for prom, the good news being he no longer felt nervous about getting bad remarks because he knew Pete would absorb all of those for him.

“How the fuck did you even get in here?” Patrick asked, who was smiling nonetheless. He could’ve easily been smiling from the alcohol that was probably in the punch, or he was genuinely glad to see his friend, but each were just about as likely as the other. 

“Patrick, kindly, shut the fuck up-“ Meagan said, which shut everyone right up, including Patrick. “Tell me how the fuck that happened to your hair. Now.” Pete grinned broadly, puffing out his chest in preparation to dawn that days’ monologue, but was cut short, thank god, by Mikey. 

“Yeah so remember how shit idiot number one here got the two of us banned from prom? I didn’t appreciate that too much so I put bleach in his shampoo,” he said calmly. Lindsey gave him double thumbs up and went back to stuffing her bra with pigs in a blanket. She still had shit to stir up. 

“I’m gonna regret asking, but why were you at Pete’s house after your suspension?” Spencer asked, but in such a way that it was completely evident he knew the reason. Gerard, sadly, did too, but he would have to be tortured to throw his brother under the bus like that. While many people found the question highly disturbing, Pete was not one of those people. He winked at the crowd before dramatically turning to Mikey and pulling him down by the face. No one really looked away until Pete started to use his tongue. Brendon couldn’t even begin to imagine how mentally scarring that was for Gerard, but nipped his own thought in the bud as Gerard seemed to be a tad bit missing at that moment. So was Lindsey.

Wonderful.

“Damn it, I wanted to be part of the obnoxious couple!” Spencer whined, drop-kicking Brendon out of his nervous fantasies that were one hundred percent brought on by Ryan. Dallon looked over at Spencer, serving him a glare only Spencer was worth of getting.

“You already are the annoying couple,” he growled, voice dropping at least three octaves. That was pretty scary, admitted Brendon to himself. Scary for Dallon, that was. 

“So, adding to the list of things I didn’t expect to come from this week, Gee is wearing a dress. Again, I know, but for prom… And I thought they made up already,” Jon wondered aloud. He never really had a clue what was going on, but tended to stick around because those people were fun anyway. Murmurs of agreements passed through the semi-circle until two boys decided to take it up a notch.

“It could be a present,” Dallon said, staring at the floor in thought. Spencer, who was going on a record for ‘not being able to shut up’ or ‘amount of words uttered in one sitting’, did a small half shrug and dug his hands deeper into his pockets, where he was probably hiding pigs in a blanket. 

“Or a reward,” he mused, staring Dallon down until the taller boys’ peripheral decided to work and they made eye contact. Dallon glared at Spencer’s smirk intently, to the point of making everyone else in the room moderately uncomfortable. 

“I think I just threw up a little,” Brendon choked. More than moderately.

“And I thought the pranking was a euphemism for something, but this is a whole new level of I Wish I Was Deaf And Blind,” Hayley shuddered from the farthest edge of the circle. That summed up her association with the group pretty well- She was friends with more than one person in the group and that made her a part of it by all standards which, according to her, ruined her rep and the entirety of high school. When she said that, she never meant that she disliked them, they were just like Bacardi when she was a Sprite. 

Brendon was highly envious of her at that moment. He was suddenly, and violently, aware that Ryan was leaning towards him, arms nearly touching. If his fingers were to ‘accidentally’ twitch, they would touch and Brendon was unsure whether he’d let go or not. In addition, Pete and Mikey were still sucking face a few feet away, adding the right combination of slurping noises and groans to tick Brendon off just as precisely as they did. All of the sudden, he could stand it no longer and so he strutted over, grabbed Pete by the collar, and yanked him away. He had questions that needed answers, which was a decent cover up as to why he was freaking out over standing next to his best friend. He made a mental note to kill Pete if he brought that up. Speaking of that son of a bitch, Pete could only handle so much, after already being mildly intoxicated. Mikey had been the one to drive them there. Understandably, he seemed to be a little lost when Brendon didn’t stop moving.

“Seriously, Pete. How the fuck did you get in? They have teachers- waiting in the parking lot- because they thought you were going to sneak in. I’m not saying I’m jealous, but I’m a little bit impressed. How did you get in?” Brendon asked. Pete smiled up at him evilly, with the look in his eyes that people tend to get right before they snitch on someone else, which made Brendon very, very excited for the conversation to come. 

***

“Jesus Ryan, I love the look! Did you find that in the closet where you live?”

“Well congratulations Sherlock! I am gay! Looks like it only took you a year and a half to get that news. That’s about quick as you solve math equations, so I’m proud of you, buddy.” Ryan slapped him hard on the back as he walked in between the few overgrown man-babies in search of Brendon who could not be left unattended under any circumstances ever. In between nearly getting drinks poured on him and getting elbowed in bad places, he scanned the crowd and at long last he spied Brendon. 

He was in the back corner, partially blocked by the corner of the stage, talking mutedly to someone. The closer Ryan became, the more frustrated Brendon became. Eventually Ryan rounded the corner and came to see why Brendon was so angry, which was all due to Pete, as usual. Ryan put a hand on Brendon’s shoulder in comfort, which scared the ever loving shit out of Brendon. 

“DID YOU HELP HIM GET IN?!” Brendon screeched, throwing his hands in the air. Before Ryan could fumble out an answer, he shot back around, grabbed Pete by the collar and turned back to Ryan, clearly not comfortable with having Pete out of his line of sight for more than three seconds. Pete tried to cover up his asshole of a smile and crossed his arms.

“Yes, I fucking let him in! What, did you think I just randomly enjoy calling Pete?” Ryan spat back. Brendon took a moment to remember what Ryan was referencing. When it came to him, he was just as, if not more confused as to why. Just why.

“YEAH, BUT WHY?” Brendon screeched. Ryan was at a loss. 

“We’re waiting, Ryan,” Pete laughed. Ryan felt his face light up in embarrassment and his eyes narrowed at the bleach blonde Pete. He looked directly out of the Jersey Shore. Ryan could manipulate that thought later on.

“To be honest? I’m not sure why I let a jerk like you in, but I did and that means you owe me one and I can use that however I like! And believe me Pete, I am gonna use it,” Ryan growled, getting all up in both Brendon and Pete’s personal space, and making for a few highly awkward moments of silence until Ryan retreated and sulked back into the crowd. 

He only sulked for so long before he got bored and returned to his ‘friends’ who were, as always, having the most wonderful conversation. Ryan could’ve sworn that every single time he went back to his people, the subject matter got progressively worse. Until the next day, where the counter reset like Cinderella. Ryan hated Cinderella.

There was one thing he enjoyed about his friends at that moment, and it was the quiet. Not quiet as in, no one was talking quiet, because they were screaming over everyone else, but it was quiet because certain people weren’t there. He counted on his fingers while he listened to Dallon regale a story from his middle school years. Gerard, Frank, Lindsey, Brendon, and Pete were all missing. He sat down next to Hayley and let out a sigh of relief. 

“I know, right?” she sighed, rotating her cup in a circle. Ryan nodded slowly and calmly dipped into a mellow conversation with her about nearly everything they had in common, which was quite a few things as it turned out. He almost completely forgot about Brendon.

~

Lindsey pulled Gerard aside, slipping into one of the wings off the stage. She pulled a curtain forward for some privacy and faced her captive. He looked a tad nervous, since Lindsey literally whisked him away from his friends with no context or warning, when she showed her true hand. 

“So, I’m sure you’re not going to want to talk about this, but I think you’re gonna need someone to back up your story in case anyone else asks about it- Frank mentioned something on Monday, on the chat,” Gerard paled and looked away, eyes wide. “Something that went unnamed, but I think we all got a pretty good grasp on what he was aiming at and I just wanted to ask you in person where you cant lie… Do you have an STD? I won’t judge or anything, I just want to-“

“Thanks for the consideration, Lindsey,” Gerard spat, crossing his arms and glaring at her darkly from under his makeup. “But for the record, I don’t. I thought I did and I told him just to be safe and then I went to the doctor and thought I told him I was fine but I didn’t and then I heard he supposedly cheated and everything fell apart and-“ Lindsey held up a hand to stop him before he got any tearier. He closed his mouth and tried to keep his lips from trembling.

“It’s fine, Gee. I get it, no worries. C’mon, be happy! I’m sorry I brought it up…” she smiled sadly and pulled him into a hug. He smiled through the tremors going through his body and hugged her back, burying his chalk white face in her neck and shuddering. Lindsey chuckled and pulled back, smiling cheekily. 

“Well hey, that’s good news, isn’t it? Now you two can go home together after prom and take off all-“

“Gee?” Frank called, from not too far away. Gerard looked from where the voice came from, back to Lindsey, who still wasn’t stopping her godforsaken sentence. Frank pulled back the curtain and smiled at him in relief. 

“-and fuck the ever loving shit out of each other!” Frank’s smile dropped off his face as he stared at Lindsey. She blew a kiss at the two of them and skipped away, humming. Gerard shook his head at Frank who had opened his mouth.

“Just- just no. Don’t even ask. You don’t want to know,” Gerard sighed, stepping out from behind the curtain. Frank raised his hands in surrender and followed Gerard out to the main room again, just as the house lights began to dim. Gerard sent a quick, disinterested gladden towards the stage and walked onwards. He found a mostly empty table that was a tad clean too and took a seat, daintily crossing his legs to avoid and peepers. Frank sat down so close to him that if he’d gone even a centimeter closer, he would’ve been on Gerard’s lap. Not that either had any problems with that, but there was the whole societal rule surrounding PDA and and screwing in public places, a conversation with his parents he’d rather avoid having. 

It seemed everyone had something to worry about at prom, from sealing the deal, to keeping up expectations, and shattering some, everyone was nervous about something. Some, more than others.

Especially Brendon. He was a fucking wreck.

He was wobbling and jumping up and down, which probably wasn’t too good for his acoustic, but he was about to go sing on stage in front of his entire grade, so he had reason enough to be nervous. Stage fright aside, he had deeper rooted insecurities regarding his performance and only after the show would he get the answer to the question he’d been buttering himself up to ask all evening. The MC called out his name, and a firm hand smacked him on the back, signaling his time to go on. 

He wiped his brow once more before walking into the blinding spot light that the tech squad somehow assembled onto the rafters. With his acoustic in his sweaty hand, he took a seat on the chair on stage. He didn’t have stage fright, he just hd audience fright. Specifically, Ryan. He smiled at the crowd, because there were more people there than Ryan. He had to bring himself to remember that his world didn’t revolve around Ryan, and he had a certain standard of arrogance to uphold. 

“Hey guys, I’m really tired, so forgive me if I fuck u- oops I don’t think I’m aloud to say that. Fuck it.” A few people laughed, but mostly people just waited for him to start. He opened his mouth to talk more, but no words came out. Then his hands were on the strings, his heart beating rapidly, and then his lips began to move.

“When the day met the night,” he sang, as the night came crashing down on Salt Lake City, the moon filling up the windows and hitting his face, not that he could see past the spot light. He felt like he was glowing, the words radiating off of him, the music pumping calmly from the speakers, grinning all the while. He couldn’t see a single face in the crowd at that point, which he was glad of. His foot began to tap along in the spirit of things. 

“All was golden in the sky,” and the rest of the song faded.

***

“Brendon that was so amazing!” Lindsey bowled him over again, hugging him so tight he thought his guts would shoot out his ears. His other friends appeared seconds later, crowding him until he couldn’t see any of the prom decor. It was a little uncomfortable, but he was smiling too brightly for that to matter. Some of the people he didn’t know as well dispersed, until he was left with Dallon, Ryan, Jon, and Spencer. And Lindsey. But even they wandered off when Brendon worked up the guts to approach Ryan, which could’ve been the work on the fairy gay mother, Lindsey, but who knows.

Ryan had stayed put at the back of the crowd, and didn’t move forward even when the gathering became sparse. He waited in his little patch of floor, for Brendon to muster up some courage that wasn’t wasted on playing a love song to the entire school, and go talk to him. Ryan straightened up as Brendon finally a took a few steps towards him, playing innocent. Brendon wasn’t sure Ryan would get the message, but it came to him that he’d seriously misjudged his friend.

“You wrote that about me…” Ryan said, matter-of-factly. Brendon tried not to cough on the little bit of lung in his windpipe and smiled shyly at Ryan instead. Ryan didn’t have the nerve to finally release his feelings quite yet. He needed a few things from Brendon first. Brendon, still sweaty from the spotlight and dazzled even more by Ryan, answered before his tongue turned to mush.

“Yeah…” What was he gonna do, lie? 

“Any others?” Ryan asked cheekily. Brendon swatted at him, so relieved that Ryan wasn’t angry that he temporarily forgot how to speak. When he regained the mindset of never being able to shut the fuck up no matter what happens, he replied,

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I need memories to write shit. Especially if it’s about you.” It was fairly obvious he didn’t mean to say that last part, judging by the way he went very pale and his eyes got wide. Ryan bit back a smile fiercely and waited for Brendon to look back at him before he made his move.

“Well, how about this?” Ryan counted his blessings and ever so slowly, leaned in. Before chapped lips could even brush, Brendon shut his eyes and began to sway. They touched. Ryan tested his grounds, seeing if Brendon was just allowing this or if maybe there was a part of him that wanted this too. Ryan let the shock of it set in, the hairs on the back of his neck settled back down, his heart rate calm before Brendon could feel it through their touching chests. Ryan tried to settle back down but Brendon pushed forward again and it suddenly became very clear to Ryan that Brendon wanted it as much as he did, but he dared not say “if not more”. 

It never got the chance to become desperate, to kiss for the sake of feeling each other, not to kiss for the sake of each other. It lasted only a few moments, before the sound poured back in and lights of the disco glinted against his eyeshadow again. Ryan untangled his hands from Brendon’s hair, wondering just when he’d put them there. His lips were wet from saliva- whose it was? He didn’t know. 

“How long?” Ryan asked. For a moment, his words made just about as much sense as one could expect, but Brendon got Ryan. Two boys, living next to each other, knowing each other since childhood, memories shared with each other’s images, yeah, Brendon got him.

“Not long enough. I should’ve realized sooner,” Brendon whispered lowly. Ryan smiled and looked at the floor. “And you?” Brendon asked, going full circle of their made up language.

“Since Freshman year. I only told you last year because I was afraid, and we all know how well that turned out. Not your fault though,” Ryan mumbled, playing with his thumbs. He wasn’t about to bring that up again. Not yet. Brendon nodded and waited a moment to finally understand what had just happened to him. When the purple studio lights dimmer in wake of the announcer, he took Ryan’s fidgety hand in his own to keep the both of them from shaking. Ryan’s blush was completely masked by the low light. 

The rest of the crowd mellowed as the announcer leapt up onto the stage, into the spotlight, and peered over the crowd quite condescendingly. She smiled sash leant over the mic, putting her glossy lips as close to the metal of the mic as she could without frenching it, and then some. Everyone spied the envelope hidden behind the mountain of sequins doused on her dress, and no one heard her words until the envelope was torn open. 

Lindsey leaned back against the wall calmly, a definitive contrast from the nail biting curiosity displayed by all other subjects in the vicinity. From the look in her eyes, one could tell she knew something extra, or that there was more at work here than met any eyes other than her own. This was too painfully obvious for Gerard, who was watching her calmness from a few feet away, hidden behind a mass of people all squishing to get a closer look. 

“And the prom kings are…” she winked at the audience, who all gasped in unison. Gerard narrowed his eyes at Lindsey, who still had not noticed him, or who was pretending not to notice him. Either way, he was pissed. 

All his anger and reserved curiosity flew away and out the window when the MC spoke, clear as day, into the mic.

“Frank and Gerard!” the kid shouted, displaying her best show stopping smile. Her oddly brilliant teeth shown as her words stuck in the air and the crowd roared. No one outside the friend group generally gave two shits about anyone within it, and vise versa, but prom was different. Although, people were probably cheering because of the absolute shit week they’d had due to those two shit-heads, but that was lost on the two. 

Both boys, startled and very out of place, dawned the stage and went under the spotlights. Gerard fumbled over just about everything on his way up to the stage, following Frank closely. When they hit the stairs, Frank grabbed his hand for good luck and put on a smile to encourage the crowd. Gerard tried not to vomit. With the light of a trillion suns in their faces, Gerard took to the mic to deliver a very unprepared for speech. He said the words as they came to his mind, tongue being more than a little useless. Frank stood by his side awkwardly, not disliking the spotlight, but not particularly enjoying it either. 

“Hey guys,” Gerard nodded meekly to the few faces he could actually make out past the deathly bright lights. “I really wasn’t expecting this… At all… uhm but thank you guys? I think? I’ve got the feeling Lindsey spiked the ballot, but you know. She does that sort of thing, um…” Gerard began to panic. “I don’t know most of you but you seem like… I was gonna say great people but no high schoolers really are so um yeah! Frank, darling, your turn.” Gerard teleported out of sight and slammed Frank forward. Gerard didn’t have stage fright, he was caught off guard and didn’t know how to talk correctly. It was best for everyone he stopped where he did. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill Lindsey,” Frank whispered as he passed Gerard on his way to the mic. Gerard smiled shyly and slipped further and further into the darkness behind the spotlight. Frank began to talk, and it was like he’d been preparing for that moment his whole life. Every sentence made perfect sense, jokes weren’t corny but actually amusing, stuff only pros are good at. From all the way at the wall, Gerard was tucked neatly under the lights, he could see most of the crowd without his eyes being burned out of his skull, which was likely no exaggeration. 

He just so happened upon two bodies in the crowd, tangled up in each other, which normally would’ve made him cringe and look away, but this time he froze. His stomach dropped to the floor and he could barely drag it behind him as he scooted forward for a closer look. He blinked, rubbed his eyes delicately as to not smear Lindsey’s artwork, and blinked some more. Before he could think, he scuffled over to Frank and elbowed him, hard. Frank audibly grunted into the microphone, but only shot Gerard a look before continuing on with his speech. Gerard hit him again, lighter, and this time with a nudge of the head, Frank got the idea. Gerard smiled at Frank’s eyes widened and he struggled to keep the audience from staring too. 

It looked positively painful as Frank finally tore his eyes away and pulled his talk to a half-assed close, before bolting from the stage with Gerard’s hand in his. The music swelled and before they got half way across the room, the crowd had lost their interest yet again. This was good, because Gerard nearly pounced on poor Ryan, who wasn’t expecting that in the slightest and was more than content to sway and kiss Brendon out of the public eye. 

“JESUS CHRIST I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR PINING IN MY LIFE SO THANK FUCK-“

“Will you keep it down?!” Brendon whisper shouted, kicking Gerard in the shin and then going for Frank but missing terribly. Gerard put an hand on his hip and raised an eyebrow.

“Is this a secret?” When neither boy said nothing, his eyebrows raised further and that gave way to a complete fangirl moment. Frank was overwhelmed with that fact that he was going to be the first to bring it up. Not Pete. Sure as hell not Brendon. Him. This one was all his. He noticed both boys were being held captive by his boyfriend, so if he just slipped off, no one would be able to do a thing. He nonchalantly meandered over to his group of friends, who hadn’t seen the little show off stage. 

He slid his way into the semi-circle like a metaphorical snake in both manners, but still, he patiently waited for a break in the action to bring it up. He felt like a news reporter, finally getting his big break, the story that would put him at the big kids table. Sure, he had a fair share of drama circulating through him, but it was never enough to rival Brendon or Pete or Lindsey, hell, not even Spencer. Frank wanted to get it just right.

He sighed, drawing eyes and ears his way. “Well, I’ve had a pretty good night. The gym squared up pretty nicely, there’s booze despite the regulations, Brendon and Ryan finally kissed-“ no one let him get to his next line. Frank smiled so widely as he was pounded with questions and screams, he thought his cheeks were going to explode. And the best part? Pete wasn’t there to hear it.

Pete was away, swaying in the off-centered little area he’d proclaimed for solely Mikey and himself when he was not quite as intoxicated. He wasn’t drunk, not yet, but he was well on his way. His blood alcohol level was low enough for him to talk normal sentences, mostly. His slow dancing was pretty average, but that could be pinned on the fact he sucked at slow dancing when he was sober. One thing he could do, sober of drunk, was be poetic. And at that point, he was mother fucking Shakespeare. 

“Do you remember the time? When we danced? And then you caught me behind the lockers, and we bit the bullet and started over?” Pete whispered, a ghostly look in his eyes, of his remembering.

“Mhm. You were a shit-head then, and you’re a shit-head now, so not much has changed, but yeah, I remember,” Mikey replied warmly. “Why?” Pete tilted his head from side to side like he was trying to get water out of his ears, but in a very gentle way. Pete was acting way more drunk than he actually was, but Pete always acted just a tiny bit drunk to make things more fun.

“Cause I’ve got all these memories in my head playing again and again and again, spinning around like a record on a record player. I could wrap them up and put them on the shelf, but then I’d only ever take them down every once and a while, but if someone else remembers too then I’ll remember them more. And… that’s what I want.” Mikey was genuinely caught off guard. Pete had few redeeming factors at most times, but it was moments like that that made every ounce of Mikey’s soul completely fall head first in love with him again. Mikey stayed silent while he worked up something to say back, not to mention the few moments he took to keep his voice from cracking.

“I remember that we went and sat on the roof and watched the stars. Afterwards we couldn’t decide if that counted as a first date or not. I remember your apology, almost word for word. God, you were so awkward. You tried so hard to not look like a school girl with a crush and you failed miserably. I remember you went around and slept with everyone because-“

“Yeah, yeah, we don’t ned to remember that part.” Mikey cracked a huge grin in spite of him. Pete tilted his head up and pressed his lips gently against Mikey’s because he could and damn it he would. Mikey stopped pretending to dance and laced his arms around Pete’s shoulders, throat tightening up again. Pete may have possibly been the devil, but even Satan fell from Heaven.

The night went on like a bulldozer, flinging everything that happened out of the way until time seemed to fly like the speed of light. Time tended to fly when they had fun, and they sure were having… something. Close to fun, though. While Pete drunkenly spewed cut up bits of poetry he’d either written or read somewhere, Mikey listened obediently, letting Pete go on and on until one of them passed out right there on the dance floor. 

Also dancing, were Ryan and Brendon, although the two of them were significantly less under the influence, or at least the influence of alcohol. As for weed, everyone in the room was, at the bare minimum, having a contact high. No matter the security precautions, the staff never got it right enough to hit the problem of weed on the head. It always got in somehow. As for the contact high, Ryan and Brendon were supporting a little more than that, but both had learned their limits. With their newfound knowledge about each other, they’d be sure to keep from getting too high, in case things went a little south. 

The thing about only getting a little high was that you only got a little of the perks. Sure, the world seemed big and open and beautiful to a poetic mind like Ryan’s, but it still didn’t make his problems go away. That included the way Brendon was dancing around him. Worry sometimes crept up on you and sprung out of nowhere, and this was one of those times. One moment all that was wrong with the world could go fuck itself because the only thing he had to fuss over was driving home that night, and the next, there was the issue of Brendon. 

His eyes were forced open when the anxiousness suddenly came flooding in. He hated it, every single speck of mistrust or doubt. Why couldn’t he just be happy? Why couldn’t he, per say, enjoy a night with a kid he sincerely cared for and about, and not give a shit? It was unfair, yeah, but it was also cruel. It hurt to a certain extent too. His first reaction was to run and hide, and maybe even cry, until he calmed down enough to return. He could’ve easily played it off and no one would’ve suspected a thing, except maybe Hayley and Jon, but the mature side of his brain caught root before that thought could really develop all that much. 

As yes, the mature thoughts from years of being taught about the mind and mental illnesses and peer pressure, yada yada yada, were finally kicking in. He could find a distraction until he was collected enough to finally think about it. Putting things off was something he was only too good at. His first thought was to kiss Brendon, but no, that wouldn’t work at all. The two of them weren’t even- oh yeah, thought Ryan. They were. Kinda.

He reached forward with his lips until Brendon caught on and wrapped an arm around his neck. They stayed like that for a moment until Brendon pulled back, remembering that they were supposed to be a secret, sort of. He peeled himself off of Ryan and took him by the arm into the hallway. Before the gymnasium doors could even shut all the way, they were right back where they were, moments prior. Still, even with all the kissing and grabbing and touching going on, Ryan couldn’t shake the worry from his mind. He’d read somewhere that once the first effects of a panic attack take hold, you cant get rid of them and you have to let them play their part. Unless you could nip it in the bud which was what Ryan was trying to do. 

He pressed Brendon lightly against the fire engine red lockers, which Brendon seemed to like immensely. The music from the gym was still pumping in their blood like they were at a concert, backstage, instead of in the hallway at their high school. Ryan felt both their heart beats melt into the same rhythm as the song, and with Brendon too preoccupied to even care, he let his worries in.

Ryan thought and thought until he could no longer micro manage his thinking and kissing at the same time and the worry got the best of him. He pulled back, leaving a sticky trail in between the two of them. Brendon stayed, pressed against the wall, enjoying the last traces of Ryan on him before the world came crashing down on him again. Brendon put the departure off as the sudden realization that kissing in the hallway outside prom wasn’t the ideal quote for people who were supposed to be hiding their relationship. Or whatever the hell it was. 

He looked over at the beautiful boy next to him, with his eyeshadow making his eyes look bigger and darker, his hair pulled out of his eyes for once, and his outfit that looked like it was drawn from blood and colored by dreams. But the pristine boy wasn’t as faultless as he appeared, in the dingy hallway midway through the evening. Worry was streaked across his whole body, like ripples in a pond, only brought up by a change. And as for Brendon, change wasn’t good when life was.

“Hey,” he piped up, putting a finger under Ryan’s chin and tilting his face towards his. “Problem?” Ryan shrugged and pulled their foreheads together calmly. That wasn’t the answer Brendon wanted nor expected, and neither of those things had good outcomes. 

“Ryan, c’mon, chill. This is gonna be fine,” Brendon whispered. His ‘soothing’ voice was rusty, to the point that Ryan wasn’t sure Brendon was going for soothing. He would’ve guessed ‘stoned surfer asshole’. 

“I know, I’m just… worried,” he replied, like he read Brendon’s mind. Seeping up through the cracks again was their true endlessness of their relationship, past kissing, past pining, past friendship, all the way back to childhood. It was made up of years of hard work, and care, and compassion, and now it was buried under layers like fossils. Fossils were wonderful, thought Ryan, but the thing was, fossils could be turned to oil, and oil catches fire.

Ryan almost got lost in his memories and guilt and worry and anger and everything else he was feeling, god knows how long the list went on. 

“About what?” Brendon asked, not pulling his forehead back, or breaking the intimacy of their stare. Poor Ryan, who was so worried that he had forgotten the conversation entirely, went on worrying despite the fact he had no fucking clue what was going on. To him, it had to mean something that Brendon cared enough to ask. Right? Ryan asked himself. 

“A whole bunch of nothingness. You don’t exactly have the best track record, and at the speed things are playing out, I’d say that I fit in just fine with your pattern.”

“Geez, Ry, you know I wouldn’t do that to you!” Brendon finally pulled back, looking at Ryan in a whole new light, like he’d never expected such things to spout from him. One thing Ryan didn’t know, so be it if it was the only thing he did not know about Brendon, that was why Brendon was going on the defensive. Because Brendon was hurt. 

Ryan snorted. “It’s funny because you already did.” All of the sudden, Ryan wanted that to sound mean. Worry plays out differently in each and every person, and when it got to a certain point in Ryan, it boiled over into a big sticky mess if he didn’t deal with it. This, going on the defensive, was dealing with it to Ryan. 

“Hey. Don’t put that blame on me. You can’t be mad that I didn’t like you when you asked me out. That’s just not fair.”

“Oh yeah? Then when did you like me? ‘Not soon enough’?” Ryan put air quotes around Brendon’s sappy quote from earlier on. “I’ll bet it was today. Now go ahead, tell me I’m wrong. That it wasn’t today and you’ve been harboring this for a while, tell me that I don’t fall perfectly in line.”

Brendon said nothing, keeping his angry look upon his face to cover up his deep down insecurities that were resurfacing for the second time that night. 

“Yes, it was today. But maybe I want you because you make me feel how no one else can, because I genuinely love you and you love me too! No one else actually loved me.” Just like that, his most buried thoughts were there, out in the open. Ryan shot back, innards coiling dangerously. Everything said up to that point disappeared, including what Brendon had just said. He knew he was about to explode and he couldn’t’ve cared less. 

“I will not let you use me!”

“I won’t!” Brendon contested weakly. Ryan scoffed apathetically and held up an accusing finger dangerously closely to Brendon’s face. Ryan shot daggers at Brendon while he spoke.

“Yeah, but the thing is, Brendon, because you’re you and you’re done what you have with who you have- you have no damn way of showing me that you mean that. You cannot prove it.” Brendon opened his mouth to shout back, but when no words came out, he shut it like a mouse trap. It hit him like a bullet as he realized that Ryan was completely correct. Brendon had absolutely nothing that set him apart, no cheap way out, nada. 

“Not without the potential of both of us getting hurt, no.”

“Exactly,” Ryan spat, so full of anger he didn’t know what to do with himself. Most of it was directed at Brendon, but there was a small part of him that sat in the back corner of his mind screaming at him for fucking up the one thing he cared about. “That is why I’m not letting myself love you. Not again.” Ryan could feel himself breaking down and so he ran out before Brendon got to see him cry. He was plenty aware Brendon had the keys and how cold it had gotten out since he’d went inside, but all his rage and hatred had gotten him plenty warm and he’d be in his warm house before the coldness of his regret could settle in his bones. 

Brendon would’ve gone after him if he hadn’t started to cry himself.

~

Too much, too soon, Brendon thought at he tried to salvage some of his eyeliner from his tear stained face. No smile worked his way onto his face as he stood in the cold, wet bathroom contemplating his next move, alone. The door was locked from the inside in spite of Dallon’s perpetual knowingness, and that eventually he would’ve realized Brendon was gone. 

“It’s okay,” Brendon told himself as he walked back and forth in the empty bathroom. “It’ll be okay. You can find something else to do for now. Ryan went home early, wasn’t feeling good- no. No way Dallon will believe that. Ah, fucking hell. Okay, calm, calm down. Ryan lives right fucking next door! It’ll be fine… You can talk to him tomorrow, give him some space for now. It’ll all be fine.” Brendon couldn’t quite make himself believe what he said, no matter how many times he said it. When it was all said and done, there was one person Brendon could count to on to take his mind off of things, and it sure as hell wasn’t Dallon. He was great and all, but he made Brendon talk about his feelings. Those were some tricky things that Brendon could not deal with at the moment, so he unlocked the door and directed himself in search of East High’s biggest dick head.

“Where the fuck is Pete?” Brendon muttered to himself after fifteen minutes of searching. He refused to get to the point of asking around, because people who weren’t Dallon would know things were up if he just went around asking for Pete. He debated asking for Mikey instead, but if they were both missing then Brendon was shit out of luck. 

Somehow, out of the corner of his eye, Brendon saw a flash of bleached hair and a laugh that was so perpetually Pete’s, and pivoted in that direction. Brendon thanked any gods that may have been listening that Mikey wasn’t around as he walked over to Pete. How very unsurprising it was that Pete was by the food table, stuffing his face with just about everything he could get his hands on. He had a cup so large that it possibly held half the punch bowl in it, and Brendon hazarded a guess that that was where the alcohol was from. Sneaky. 

Brendon listened to Pete tell stories for a long, long while, but it could only satisfy part of his brain. Pete was so out of it that he finished his stories halfway through and that was something that didn’t really interest Brendon. He tried to get Pete to resume a few times, but he always stared at Brendon like they weren’t even speaking the same language. Eventually, he got bored with the conversation and gave up, resorting to singing songs in his head and people watching, something he very rarely found himself bored enough to do.

Bored wasn’t really what Brendon was, but it was what he was calling the way he was feeling in order to put off any worries that might come to light if he did anything else. If only he could distract himself enough to forget about it, and then everything would be just fine. Until he went home and saw Ryan’s house right next door, but that wasn’t his problem at that moment. No, his problem was that a kid he’d realistically been a little in love with his whole life had left him behind because he hadn’t been able to prove himself to him. It wasn’t about ego, or about being their equivalent of dumped, it was that Brendon was, in short, heartbroken. The night was still so young for the two and yet so much had happened, the atmosphere was probably struggling to keep up. Like the last beats of an orchestral masterpiece, Brendon took a short breath that signified the ending of a torturous road. Pete was still stuffing his face to his left and drinking like a raging alcoholic, but he suffered in silence. 

Brendon had read heart break, seen it, watched, but to a certain extent, he’d never even heard of it. Something new all together had grasped him by the soul and squeezed every last drop of self worth and dignity out of him and squashed it like a bug. Nothing more than a bug. It was a crippling sensation, and he was all too foolish for never believing that such a feeling could be well and alive in high school, breathing, heart beating, and waiting just underneath his skin for the right moment to strike. It wasn’t when he turned Ryan down all that time ago, or when Ryan ran, it wasn’t in the bathroom, it was right at that moment. In the clear, he could hear Dallon telling him to get his shit together and pull himself through like he sometimes had to, but Dallon wasn’t anywhere near there and Brendon had to assume it was his own conscious saying that. 

His conscious was usually garbage, said shitty stuff, made him the person he was that day, and he hated it for it. Insecure and vulnerable as Brendon was, there was one part of himself and his life that wasn’t absolute garbage and that diamond in the rough was being stepped over like a plastic bag on a dirty sidewalk street. But… Brendon wasn’t on that filthy street, solemn and quiet. He wasn’t alone either, no, his life was bursting with wonderful people. So many wonderful, kind people and one of them, that diamond in the rough, was waiting for him.

“You can’t just throw him away,” Brendon whispered to himself, eyes brimming with fresh tears. All his face paint was about to come crashing down, both metaphorically and not. He ran a finger across his lips that still probably had Ryan’s DNA on them and shuddered. 

“Mmmwhatthe..fuck was that?” Pete asked, spinning around and gagging a little. Every waking moment it became more apparent that there was alcohol and Brendon was missing out on a good time, but all the same, he was missing Ryan more. 

“I need to go,” Brendon whispered, ninety percent sure Pete hadn’t heard him, which wasn’t his problem. It took everything he still had left to give to keep from crying as he ran from prom, his cup still spilling onto the floor where he dropped it. 

He only started to run after he’d past Frank’s car, where he’d only slightly caught Frank and Gerard making out half naked. It hadn’t caught his blurry eyes in the night. The only things he saw were the life he was about to make and his reflection in the puddles beneath himself. Those weren’t why he was running. There was no other way for Brendon to explain why he was running, other than that he loved Ryan. Brendon was running because he was completely scared shitless. 

***

“Brendon? What are you doing in my room? It’s like… late,” Ryan asked, clear that he had been asleep up until Brendon fell through his window. Ryan reached for a light switch as Brendon dusted himself off, and sat himself down on the fuzzy rug in the center of the room.

“Well, I learned about this neat-o thing called anal-“

“Jesus christ,” Ryan rubbed his eyes, already exasperated at his not-boyfriend.

“No, actually it’s a sin if you ask Catholics, but-“

“Brendon, seriously,” Ryan barked, a morose evil in his dark, sleepy eyes. Brendon sat up straighter, eyes watching the hands of the clock tick ever so slowly, despite how rushed everything seemed to him. Ryan tried to say something mean, push him away to the point where he couldn’t get hurt, but he looked down and say how Brendon’s toes were curling and unfurling in his ratty green socks. Ryan felt a stab of empathy as he truly understood the feeling of confessing and in turn getting denied. In the absence of words, Brendon took a chance.

“I-“ he took a breath. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to ask anything of you, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Cause I know I don’t have the best track record for dating, and I will say it’s because I’m picky, but I realized something tonight. I always thought that true love wasn’t something you could see at first sight because there were too many mysteries, which was something I never explored at school. I mean yeah, I did kiss Dallon that one time, but that didn’t work out at all. It was for the best. But the thing I realized was that I’ve already got someone I know, someone who I’ve spent every day of my life with, for better or for worse, someone who I love a whole fucking lot. I’ve relived those memories that we made so many times and they never dry out like they do with other people, because I don’t ever get tired of you like I do with other people. I get tired of other people because I’m… picky. And with you I’m not picky because you’re the one I’ve based all my shitty criteria off of, you’re the one who makes me- ah fuck it. You’re the one who I love and there really isn’t anything I can do to prove that other than love you every single day of my life until you grow tired of me.”

Ryan sat, grounded, heart so still he could’ve flat lined. Brendon loved him. While his brain worked like a computer with all its fans on, trying so hard but getting no relief, his mouth talked shit.

“I’m sorry, all I got out of that was that you said you kissed Dallon. You kissed Dallon? When the fuck did that happen?” he asked, sitting up and scrutinizing Brendon harshly in the darkness of his room. Brendon put his face in his hands and screamed a little bit. 

“Ryan, really?” he whined. The switch flipped in Ryan’s brain and everything began to compute once again. His heart shot immediately into overdrive, his whole body fluttering like a butterfly, all whilst feeling nauseated. In a good way, though. Brendon loved him, he thought again, but this time it made all the more sense. He tucked a strand or hair behind his ear loosely and felt tears swell in his eyes. He had no words to say, no way of denying what Brendon said because it was true- he had no way of proving that he wouldn’t get hurt without falling first. The tears could’ve been from happiness, fear, anything, and Ryan may never know which it was. The small thought that had kept him from ever doing anything towards Brendon returned to his mind: When you fall, you get hurt. But just as sudden as it came, it went. Even if it was just for that night, Brendon loved him. And fuck, Ryan sure as hell loved him too. 

“Fuck,” he choked, slipping off his bed and pulling Brendon into a hug. Brendon wrapped his arms around him while Ryan tried not to cry into his shirt. The clock struck midnight, which was his curfew, but Brendon had other matters to attend to. He felt the weight of Ryan’s head lift from his chest, and suddenly there was a pair of lips on his own, tear stained and smiling all the same. Long fingers slipped through his soft hair, pulling him closer and closer until their bodies were practically conjoined. Without warning, Ryan pulled back, eyes gleaming and lips full and pouty. 

“Are you staying the night?” he asked calmly, with no hint of a deeper more X rated meaning. Knowing Ryan, it was probably there. Brendon turned his head back to his house and bit his lip with concern.

“I really want to but my parents will be checking in on me cause of my curfew and if I’m not there…” he sighed, looking back to Ryan who was skeptical.

“Is that an excuse not to stay with me or are you being genuine, cause I can never tell. Although, my insecurities usually favor the first, but don’t listen to them cause they’re usually full of shit,” Ryan responded. Brendon snorted and scooted closer to Ryan until he was basically on his lap.

“You should do motivational posters for kids. “Don’t listen to your insecurities, kids, they’re full of shit,’” Brendon mocked. Ryan tried to push him off playfully, but the smaller boy stayed routed to the spot. “And yes, I was being genuine. So much, in fact, that I was about to ask if you wanted to come to my house instead.”

Ryan considered his options. For one, he really wanted to go with Brendon, he didn’t have a curfew now that his parents knew he was already home, and if he left a note saying he woke up early and was at Brendon’s, then there weren’t any problems. With his options considered, he slid Brendon off of his lap and snatched up a pencil and any piece of paper he could find. For a moment, he struggled to write, knowing Brendon was watching him like a hawk. When he was finished, the paper sailed through the air and landed on his bed with a small pat, not that he saw because Brendon was kissing him again. If he hadn’t remembered about the whole ‘climbing the fence to get to Brendon’s house’ part, he probably would’ve let Brendon push him out the window.

After a lot of mishaps involving nearly falling off the fence and walking into the wall of the house, the two eventually made it into the house. Just in time. There was a knock on Brendon’s door and a muted whisper from his mother. Ryan dove under the desk out of instinct left over from secret sixth grade sleepovers. 

“Brendon? Is that you?” his mother asked calmly. Brendon yanked off his shirt and opened the door a smidge, while Ryan stared pointedly at his feet, stalk still under the desk. He barely even fit under there anymore.

“Yeah, mom,” Brendon yawned for extra believability. “I just got in, wanted to… sleep…” he trailed off. Ryan worried for a hot second, somewhat believing Brendon was truly as tired as he posed to be. The he noticed Brendon’s slowly tapping foot and his worried settled again.

“Alright, honey. See you in the morning.” His mother gave one last smile and let Brendon shut the door. The latch clicked, the lock turned and Brendon nearly dove at Ryan who didn’t make it out from under the desk in time. Both hit their heads to some degree, not that either felt it with their heads pushed together anyway.

They pulled themselves up and over to the bed, where Ryan came crashing down on him, still attached at the lip and barely still breathing. Brendon knew his way around what he was going to do, not that he’d ever done was he was about to do with a boy before. Porn was the best teacher, after all.

“D’you got the stuff?” Brendon asked, disoriented with what was his mouth and what was Ryan’s. 

“No,” Ryan hissed, biting down on Brendon’s lip hard enough to maybe draw blood. “Do you have any?” Brendon groaned and let his head hit the pillow. Ryan knew damn well Brendon did have it and was just playing with him at that point.

“No, Ryan-“ Ryan buried his lips on Brendon’s collar bone. “FUCKING HELL- Fine, God, go get it.” Ryan smirked as he pulled himself off of Brendon and hopped neatly out the window. Ryan was gone no more than twenty seconds flat. Going back and forth a lot as children did them good. Ryan straddled Brendon’s waist after pecking him on the lips, taking in Brendon’s glow.

“So this happens to you a lot, eh?” Brendon cracked as Ryan uncapped the lid. It took him a minute to get was Brendon was going for, a long, slow, silent minute. When it hit him, he gasped and nearly threw the bottle.

“WAS THAT YOU?” Ryan yelped, somewhere between a whisper shout and his normal voice. Brendon tried desperately to hide his shit eating grin under a pillow. He pulled himself together for a split second to deliver the most unconvincing statement of his career in being a dickhead.

“..No.”

“HOW DARE YOU!” Ryan shrieked, to which Brendon finally reacted. He burst out laughing for a split second, but upon hearing footsteps, he bit into the pillow and held his breath. After a moment where Brendon’s mom was clearly listening through the door, her steps faded back into her room and Brendon started to cackle again. Ryan opened his mouth to growl, but Brendon held up a finger.

“SH YOU’LL WAKE MY MOM,” he whispered cheekily. Ryan had not gotten a bucket of lube dumped on him just to stay quiet. In retaliation, he uncapped the bottle and roughly turned Brendon onto his stomach, biting back a smile of his own. It was almost funny how Brendon nearly melted into the bed. That was, until he started to talk again.

“Geez, I never thought i’d be in this position,” he whined, as Ryan kissed the back of his already sweaty neck. He could feel Ryan’s lips pull into a smile and lift off his skin, raising goosebumps all along his flesh. 

“So you have thought about it?” Ryan pondered, lightly dragging his nails down his back. Brendon shuddered briefly, trying to not take too long before firing back a witty response.    
“Shut the fuck up, Ryan,” was the best he could manage, which meant Ryan had him right where he wanted him. He pressed his lips back onto Brendon’s skin and bit down lightly on his shoulder and felt his entire body shake with a moan. Right where he wanted him.

~

The morning came like a saint stepping down the stairway to heaven and delivering the solace of the weekend. No more school, no more drama, no more worries until Monday came along. However, Brendon felt Monday would come a little differently than any other would. He counted his blessings on his fingers while he waited for Ryan to wake up. Of course he’d woken up early on the weekend; how very hateful of him.

He had a boyfriend, he had Ryan, that was one.

His friends weren’t the divided mass of anger and mutterings under their breath that why had been all throughout the week. Frank and Gerard finally put their foot down on any lingering tensions like good parents should. That was two.

Things could return to normal, plus the dodgeball came was still coming up. First thing Monday morning, he’d get the shit knocked out of his, which wasn’t really a blessing now that he thought about it. He could beat the snot out of some other kids if he tried, which would have to be good enough. 

Most importantly, things were going back to normal as soon as possible, which was all he could hope for. Ryan stirred next to him as he sighed, curling around him closer. Brendon waited patiently for the other boy’s brown eyes to open. When they finally did, it was like he could see the last night in them. The purple of the drapes, the brightness of the spotlight, all the smells of the night time. None of the bad was there, because Ryan’s pleasant morning smile made them almost non-existent. Ryan pressed a kiss onto his cheek and let the pressure of his lips turn into memory. Just as the whole, terrible, awful week turned into a memory, the little kiss did too, but this one reeked of the future. He was happy, Ryan was happy, his friends were happy, and still everything had changed. Maybe change wasn’t so bad, thought Brendon as he turned onto his side to watch Ryan wake up next to him for the first time in his life. As the two began to wake up, together, Brendon couldn’t help but think to himself,

_How could I ask for more?_


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installment of DOATB. Not much, just tying up the ending in a nice bow.

Brendon pulled the car into the last available parking space and switched off the engine with a sigh. Ryan looked practically brain dead, staring at the dashboard despite the sun glaring at him at him. Neither moved for a good ten seconds. It took most of Ryan’s available energy to unbuckle and slide out of the car, even if he didn’t land on his feet. Brendon’s exit wasn’t much smoother, but at least he didn’t completely face plant.

While scraping a mix of grass and mud off of his jeans, Ryan followed Brendon down the short path that lead into the forest. The destination wasn’t much more than a small green space filled with snakes, which just so happened to be by a pond. All in all, it was a pretty unpleasant spot, and you usually left with nine more mosquito bites than you went in with, but, like with most places, it was the thought that counted.

On their walk, the two boys talked calmly, much more so than they had been able to the previous night. Any and all leftover aggression that they hadn’t fucked out has dissolved overnight and it was as though there wasn’t a single change to their small worlds. 

“When should we tell Pete?” Ryan asked over a moment of silence. Brendon chuckled disbelievingly and looked over at him, sunlight glinting off his sunglasses. 

“How about never?” Brendon countered playfully, although Ryan wasn’t so sure he was joking. Those two were always wild, and there can only be one wild boy. Life containing the both of them was just one big measuring contest in which neither could ever win. Ryan’s sympathy got the best of him in that situation and he began to plead. 

“Brendon, that’s fucking rude.”

“Pete’s fucking rude!” Ryan would’ve dug further but they were getting close to the pond, judging by the chirping off the birds and the slow, bass drum howls of the bullfrogs. Ryan couldn’t deny what he said, so he shut up and tried not to think about his soggy gross jeans. His friends came into view as he rounded a final corner and the trees cleared. From that far away, he couldn’t really tell, but he way fairly fucking sure some people were sitting on each other, and he wondered if there was an opt out button. 

Sadly, Ryan was correct that there were a few in questionable positions, none of which were too obscene to scold, but enough to make everyone exceptionally still. Still as they were, silence wasn’t an option to be explored on the day after prom. The time of recollection had come upon them where they could all laugh at the god awful week they’d had together and no one would start any shit whatsoever. Even with the emotional amnesty circulating, Pete was being uncharacteristically calm and it was slowly becoming frightening to Ryan. 

“What’s up with Pete?” Ryan asked Meagan, who was otherwise buried in a book she’d loaned from Hayley. She looked up at him, sunlight glinting off her golden sunglasses and sighed. A summer sigh.

“He made a deal not to pester anyone until Monday, for our sake. I’m still surprised he agreed,” she laughed quietly. Ryan was amazed that chatterbox Pete had been okay with that task and he made a deal with himself not to abuse his privilege. Ryan leaned back and set his head on Brendon’s leg, settling down under the cold sun. He pulled his scarf over his eyes and let the sounds of his friends lull him into a peaceful mirage.

Brendon looked down at his boyfriend and felt an overwhelming sensation that he owed the world something, as it had been so kind to him. It only took him a moment to figure which of his mistakes to repent, as there were so many. When one particularly devious one came to mind, he straightened up and looked across the mass of blankets scattered about to Pete. For possibly the first time all week, Pete was calm too. He was saying nothing, simply watching Mikey sleep under the sun. Not long ago the two had been talking, but Pete looked much more content then than he had earlier. Pete never really got a break, thought Brendon. He owed him most of all. 

“Hey Pete?” Brendon asked. As though the sound waves went in slow motion, Pete slowly tore his numb gaze away from Mikey and over to Brendon. His eyes flickered down to Ryan for a split second, but he caught himself before he could say anything. The rest of the chatter died down to let Brendon speak. It was a luxury that was all too rare in high school.

“I know this is late and more than a little useless coming from me, but I-“ Pete waited in anticipation. “I wanted to say that I am sorry for what I did on Tuesday. It was funny at the time, but it was a mistake. I can say that definitively now. I’m sorry,” Brendon sighed, letting his words ripple out like a stone crashing through the transparent barrier they had all created. That barrier being laughter. It was always there, but it really distorted what was underneath. A couple of shit-head teens who didn’t know what they were doing with their lives, figuring it out on their own with help from each other. Just under the surface there were so many unsaid things that they all meant but never said because that just wasn’t the type of people they were. 

But the water rippled, and Brendon’s hook, line, and sinker broke the barrier.

Before Pete could respond, and judging by the look on his face, he really wanted to, Lindsey piped up.

“I’m sorry I Nair’d Ray in the face. I know it was the prank war and all, but I took it a step too far. I wish he were here so I could tell him face to face,” she whispered. Her voice stayed low, a trait she and many others used to keep their voices from cracking. 

“I’m sorry I beat you up, Brendon,” Hayley hummed, looking up from her book for the first time all afternoon. Brendon smiled at her warmly, listening to the rest of the apologies that followed. No one spoke over each other, a rarity for all of them. Eventually, people ran out of things to feel bad for, with all their mistakes or other things they regretted out in the open. It was more than a little like a group therapy session, only no one felt awkward after spilling their guts. Seconds after the last apology was spoken, light conversation condensed again. Mikey sat himself upright, and pulled an arm around Pete. This was a breath of fresh air for Brendon who only ever saw the two being obnoxious together. He had begun to doubt the two even cared for each other, but with so many other things, surprises always presented themselves.

~

When all the food was eaten, all the stories told, the memories made to last had outlived their usefulness, Mikey scuttled back under his jacket umbrella and there was not much left other than peace and quiet. Not silence, quiet. The birds chirped here and there, the frogs wouldn’t shut the fuck up, and the cold ass wind was rushing through the branches like wildfire. Some people enjoyed the moments of quiet within the park, others… not so much. Brendon, for one, found it odd that his friends were all of the sudden generically hushed people. Out of character was one thing to call it, but if one took into account all of what had happened in the previous days, it became significantly less troubling. 

Still, Brendon was fond of having the spotlight on him and quiet was more of an equally statement. Not to say that Brendon was against equality. He sure as hell wasn’t. 

“Anyone wanna eat cheesecake out of my mouth?” Brendon asked, dropping one of the last cubes into his venus fly trap. Perking up like he was counting down the moments until Brendon broke the noiselessness, Ryan joined in almost immediately. 

“That’s disgusting, can I try?” he asked, keeping an eye out for Pete. Pete’s eyes flickered up angrily, but he stayed silent, no matter how painful it was to him. He’d made a deal and damn it, he would try his best to keep it. 

Brendon swallowed the cheesecake square and smirked at Ryan with a look in his eyes that only Sherlock Holmes himself would’ve been able to understand. Oh, and Pete. 

“Gay,” he whispered under his breath. Mikey kicked him from under his cocoon and tried to resume his twitter scrolling without listening in on Pete being obnoxious. Much to his surprise, Pete relaxed, the bitterly bright sun taking much more out of him than he imagined it would. Maybe he could finally sleep off his hell of a week. Mikey’s week, overall, hadn’t been the worst one of his life. That was reserved for the week he came out to Gerard, blowing his and Pete’s cover for the sake of Gerard, who had just been broken up with and was then suddenly screwing Mikey’s best friend. Yes, that was definitely his least favorite week. Things were pretty good at his house, beyond the fact he wasn’t technically allowed to leave his house at the moment. 

Things weren’t too bad for Gerard either, and the odds of both the Way’s feeling not completely awful at the same time had a very low probability rate. Despite the fact he hadn’t listened to one damn lecture from a teacher all week, he’s learned a lot. So much, in fact, that he couldn’t be bothered to remember it at that moment. His puffy jacket kept his arms warm in the sunny but frigid weather, while he bordered on sleeping and thinking on Frank’s lap. 

He was oh so close to finally catching some z’s when the one thing that actually forced him to wake up began. Dispersal. He would’ve noticed Spencer and Dallon packing up if he’d a) cared, and b) not had his eyes covered by sunglasses that created the perfect combination of darkness and light to make him drowsy but not able to fall asleep. The two boys were nearly on their feet when Frank nudged Gerard to look alive or at least pretend to. Spencer helped Dallon up with a light hand on his lower back that made Pete stare heatedly at the ground. There was only so much that poor guy could take, Gerard thought. Mikey had better get an handle on him. 

Mikey didn’t intend to get a handle on anything except for Pete, but that was definitely not in the way that Gerard was thinking of. The two said their farewells and walked tranquilly from the area. Mikey began to chat Pete up, trying to drop subtle hints that Pete wouldn’t just be dropping him off afterwards, and Pete caught on pretty quickly. He would’ve put much more energy into being equally promiscuous if Brendon and Ryan hadn’t caught his eyes again. Mikey would’ve suggested that Pete just went and had a threesome with them instead, but that alone was giving too much away.

No one really decided not to tell Pete personally. It started as a “we’ll let Brendon and Ryan tell him as they see fit” thought, but it escalated to the point where no one so much as brought the two up in the presence of Pete as to avoid the possibility of Pete putting two and two together. At that moment, the two boys in question were chatting calmly to one another while Pete scowled at them from afar. Brendon reached over Ryan to grab his water bottle but stopped midway through his reach to listen to something Ryan had started to say. A blush rose up his cheeks and he giggled as he grabbed his bottle and laid back down. Pete was talking before he could stop himself.

“Well that was awfully gay,” he scoffed. Meagan and Mikey locked eyes, and the treaty was broken once and for all. Pete noticed them, seconds after his words had left his mouth, and wished he could take them back with all his heart. He’d tried so hard. 

“Go stand in the corner. You broke the rules.” Meagan pointed to a tree on the far edge of the clearing. Pete rolled his brown, angry eyes at her and pointed even more apathetically back at her.

“If they’re going to be fucking tormenting me, I don’t see why they shouldn’t go stand in the corner too!” Pete contested, throwing angry gestures at the two in question as the rest of the group began to notice something else was going on besides their own conversations. 

“Pete, go stand in the corner,” Mikey grumbled, unconcerned. 

“Mikey if you think I’m going to take orders from you, I’ve already proved you’re dead wrong and we both know it.” There was dead fucking silence in the clearing. “So does Meagan,” he added. Water shot out of both Brendon’s nose and mouth in shock. Everyone had made that into something it was not in their heads, but Pete couldn’t let it rest apparently. Mikey gave him a death glare as Gerard finally got what Pete meant and why Brendon had spewed everywhere in reaction. 

No one brought up the corner again.

***

By and by, time went on until the sun was no longer visible over the tall tree line and Brendon had to pull on his coat. Things had only gotten more awkward after Pete’s little outburst and he was no longer a fan of the embarrassment in the air. The conversation was phenomenal, but he’d made a promise that he had to keep, no matter how many times Gerard could swear in one sentence while scolding Pete. 

“We really ought to get going,” Brendon piped up as he stood, extending a hand for Ryan. “I promised Ryan’s mom I’d have him home early for their little post-prom celebration,” Brendon said, making eye contact with no one but Ryan, and more specifically, Ryan’s lips. Ryan bit his lip for effect, leaning on Brendon and thoroughly grossing everyone out. It also coaxed Pete to finally blow his top. 

“Did you SEE THAT? MIKEY TELL ME YOU FUCKING SAW THAT!” Pete screeched like a hawk, nearly breaking Mikey’s kneecap from how fast he sat up. Mikey smacked him with the remains of the baguette and went back to scrolling through his Instagram under his jacket. 

“Yeah, Pete, we all saw it,” Meagan sighed, leaning back onto the frozen ground in her nine layers. She still couldn’t understand why no one had thought a picnic in February was a bad idea. 

“Are you guys saying you just… don’t care?” Pete asked, and that suddenly had everyone’s attention. Pete’s voice cracked a little near the end of his sentence, making him sound like a wet kitten and look like a dog with its tail between its legs. Ryan had finally had enough of tormenting Pete and took Brendon by the face, who no longer cared the outcome of the picnic. No one batted an eye at their little show of affection, aside from Pete, but it only took a few seconds for him to catch on. He wasn’t that stupid. 

“WHY DOES NO ONE EVER TELL ME ANYTHING?!” he shouted, kicking Mikey lightly in the side. Finally, the silence broke, and everyone erupted into a large, well deserved bout of laughter, only, no one was really laughing at Pete. And in the end, he started laughing too. Just like the final moments of the cinema scene, in black and white, shining like a star amidst the blackened room. Brendon pulled Ryan close, an arm around his shoulder and looked down at his laughing group of friends. It was so peaceful, making a scene was. Laughing and kicking and knee slapping and in love. At times it was rough to be around those people, but who better to surround yourselves with than those who love you? Forgetting all the rough times, mainly those from that week, Brendon smiled brighter than everyone else combined, happy with being happy. The moment seemed to never end, which was battling the saying that time flies when you’re having fun. It truly was a lifetime of laughter,

all at the expense

of the death of a bachelor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!! There will be more coming for this series, as I have at least three other stories planned out as of right now. I always appreciate comments, and if you guys have any ideas you'd like to be put in the stories, please hmu
> 
> Thanks again!
> 
> -Merkey666


End file.
